Like a cat tied to a stick

Dream on you weary child,
eclispe the sun rise in your heart.
Buzz and play in the meadow fields,
forget the sorrow of being apart.

Leave behind those green hills,
all to dampen paper mills.

It can't go on my sweetheart.

Piece together the windmills,
sway and burn, sway and turn.

Don't be so naive.
You insect bee, you insect bee.

so small we are in the mountain tops,
we could get lost, we could be lost.

On top, the floor, you laugh and snore.

laugh it up, laugh it up.

Soon I hope,
you'll see it soon, soon I hope you'll see it soon.

I liked it a lot. I think it was either about a couple breaking up, or a parent and child, so the meaning wasn't incredibly clear, but that's fine in poetry, and I guess I've never read your inspiration before.

so small we are in the mountain tops,

Capitals! Where are they? And another one I found:

laugh it up, laugh it up.

Otherwise, I didn't see anything else wrong, so good work