Imagination tells me,
All that I can be.
I could be riding on a pony,
While eating macaroni.
Imagination helps me,
To write a small story.
A writer I can be,
My teacher tells me.
I have my own castle,
And my own stable.
I have lots of horses,
My favorite one's Maybell.
I wish it was true,
But that just won't do.
Instead I sit in my room,
Watching the flowers bloom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem