Playing My Little Guytar Poem by Ianne de Angel

Playing my little guitar
A new song I start to write
The rhymes come so fast
In the space, the imagination fly

Playing my little guitar
The rhymes become funny to eyes
I start to wish something different
Becoming true the others lies

So the birds start to dance in the floor
And the fishes to fly in the sky
Everything is becoming funny
So, I forget my little guitar, why?

So let it go, let it invent
The world is so beautiful, you don't need to pretend
The tears become a smile
The hate becomes funny for a while
And everything becomes true the imagination
Playing my little guitar
Letting fly my little heart
To something that always you can keep.