Your, dreams are yours to make.
Though, some do not come true.
Because of the choice and roads we take.
I’ve dreamed once, thinking of who I’d be.
Then it soon left me, like the leaves on a tree.
Then it all hit me, and then I finally could see.
That dreams have blinded me.
Because we don’t know who we want to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have to know your destination - that is so true.