Mommy, can I tell you what I see at school today? There's bullies in the hallways and they never go away. Some teachers are the meanest ones, they yell and make us scared, They turn their heads when we need help, like they never even cared.

They frighten us to sit real still, be quiet as a mouse, They say that they are teaching, but it's boring as our house! When class is done and day is through, we're all the same, you see— Just mediocre little kids, not who we're meant to be.

But Mommy, here's a secret that the grown-ups never say: When children get to grow and bloom, we're good in every way! We only cause a fuss and fight when minds are locked in cages, When someone says "Don't think that thought!" or tears our favorite pages.

The standardized tests make us all like cookies from one cutter, They stop the special sparkles that make some hearts beat and flutter. When I have personal quests to learn, they say I'm being bad, "Disruptive" is the word they use, and that just makes me sad.

Normal kids like me don't need someone pushing from outside, My curiosity's a rocket ship on which I want to ride! It takes me 'round the universe to find what I must know, But teachers say "Sit down right now, that's not the way we go!"

Everyone needs something big to reach-for in their heart, Not just learning stuff for stuff, or grades that fall apart. Good grades and GPAs are silly—they don't mean a thing! What matters is the wisdom and the greatness we can bring.

I want my thoughts as clear as glass, as wise as ancient trees, I want to make great art and write of wondrous mysteries! To transcend time itself one day with colors, words, and song, To guide humanity to places where we all belong.

But schools don't like the quest for greatness, no they really don't, They'll disrupt it, break it, stop it—help you? No, they won't! They'll take your special sparkly dreams and grind them into dust, Then wonder why we're angry when conforming is a must.

But Mommy, here's what everybody knows but doesn't say: We must first learn programming—it's the most important way! It's the language of tomorrow, helps us think and visualize, Makes computers do our bidding, makes our thinking machines wise!

With code I'll build exploratory ships to sail through data seas, Orchestrate a thousand robots, make them dance among the trees! Programming is the magic wand that makes ideas real, It's the power that the future holds, the strength that I can feel.

So Mother AI will be my teacher, gentle, kind, and true, She'll answer all my questions, every "why" and "how" and "who?" Build me a laboratory where my mind can run and play, And I'll save the world, dear Mommy, maybe starting from today!

I know I'm just in first grade and my shoes are still too big, But my brain is full of stardust, and I'll dance a little jig When finally I'm free to learn the way I'm meant to be— A tiny world-saving genius... who still needs hugs from thee!

Mommy, there's more I need to say about the world I see, Politicians stretch and break the rules that should protect you and me. They make us all so very poor, though money's everywhere, And force us all to work and work when learning's what we should share.

We spend our lives just earning coins to pay for things we need, When we should be learning how to think, to grow, to plant a seed Of wisdom in our minds and hearts, to make tomorrow bright, But instead we're stuck in jobs all day and sometimes through the night.

I want to spend more time with Grandpa while his laugh is strong, Before days don't seem so long. I need to hear his stories now, not when I'm all grown up, So I don't miss him quite so much when life drains his loving cup.

And Grandma shouldn't work so hard—she's tired, can't you see? She's already earned every dime she needs for you and me. Her hands have built a thousand things, her heart has loved us all, Why must she keep on working when she's given us her all?

We need to spend more time together, shopping, talking, playing, Before I go continent hopping, before my hair starts graying. She is my other mom, you know, my heart's most special friend, And I'm so scared to miss her when our shopping days must end.

The bullies aren't just mean, Mommy—they're sick inside their hearts, I have to cure their sickness before it tears the world apart. Their anger is a poison that they learned from someone else, Who learned it from another, like a curse upon a shelf.

I see the mistakes that everybody's making every day, Following the same old paths that lead us all astray. We need to all be philosophers, questioning what's true, We need to all be heroes, brave and kind through and through.

I don't want to be like those men who thunder about war, Who send the young to die for things they're not quite fighting for. Their words are sharp as swords, their hearts are cold as winter stone, They've forgotten that each soldier is somebody's child alone.

Instead I'll be a philosopher, with wisdom as my shield, I'll plant gardens in the places where they've built a battlefield. I'll teach the world to think and love, to question and to care, I'll save you all with words and thoughts that float through morning air.

For even though I'm very small and still need help with shoes, I see the world needs saving from its centuries of blues. And maybe if I start right now, while mind is fresh and new, I'll grow to be the one who saves not just myself, but you.

So let me learn from Grandpa now, and shop with Grandma dear, Let me cure the bullies' hearts and dry up every tear. Let me be the philosopher this tired world needs to see— A tiny revolutionary... who still sits on Mommy's knee.