There once was a girl who ran;
She ran away from this earth.
She fell asleep, and in her dreams,
She experienced her own rebirth.
In the world, which was her own,
She created every little thing.
And her world would grow more rapidly
With what each new thought would bring.
Her sky was green, and her grass was blue,
The lions were scared, but her lambs were bold.
The sun was cold, and made her sad,
But the rain clouds showered her in gold.
This was the world she always knew;
Not the mystery that everyone else adored.
She was different, and that was clear,
But the thought of normality made her bored.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A delightful critique of genuineness... and I applaud your distain of normality! You were correct... I do enjoy them all! ; -)