The Sketch
In a corner small and meek,
Anna's dreams upon a sheet.
Towers twist and bridges span,
A hidden world, a master plan.
'Someday real, ' she softly speaks,
As graphite grays and color peaks.
Imagination on the page,
Yet never stepping on life's stage.
The Interview
A call for art to grace the sky,
Anna knew she had to try.
They laughed and said, 'You aim too high, '
She smiled, 'That's how I touch the sky.'
The Blueprint
Nights and days in glowing screens,
Lines and arcs, geometric dreams.
Translating what her heart did say,
Anna sent her plans away.
The Verdict
In a room of tailored suits,
Anna's name bore lofty fruits.
'This is for those who dream, ' she said,
Holding high her trophy's head.
Reality
Years gone by, her dream stood tall,
A monument admired by all.
From sketch to stone, from thought to deed,
Her dream was now a thing indeed.
Looking up, Anna knew the lore,
Imagination is the key to something more.
In that moment, she truly knew,
Dreams aren't dreams when they come true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem