There once was a girl,
This girl had papers,
She wanted to write,
But thoughts were vapor.
This girl's mind was just blank,
While just thoughts in and out,
Trying was while so hard,
No words just came about.
But then her pencil woke up,
And it then roused up strongly,
Blank pages were then attacked.
Words kept through, no wrongly!
That girl gripped her pencil,
And so words just flew out,
That pencil just kept on,
Pages casting about!
When seeing no more voids,
This girl then had no sighs,
With pages so, so fine,
Such graces to ones' eyes.
While turning in papers,
This girl stood with such pride,
Holding her pencil up,
She explained it: her guide.
That strong scout this girl kept,
So to all she conceded,
To her teachers and classmates,
A strong pencil was needed!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem