In my warm bed dreaming away,
My future comes to me in a single dream.
My dream of becoming a writer inside my head.
The story imprinting the pages upon walls,
wanting to be let out.
Characters unfolding with a storyline,
making their own past and future.
I wake up to them still rattling,
wanting on paper.
Who knew these little people would make someone so known?
Thank you for making me famous,
inside my head.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
=] this is really creative, I really like this, and I can see it happeneng.