To my Secret Place

I became a little child,
Walking through my own prairie.

Cherishing the scene of the greenish plain,
Untouched and pure.

My nose smells the aroma of some flowers,
Holding me back to the real world.

It is my comfort to remain here,
In my asylum and haven.

With someone I desire to meet and talk to,
Ignoring all the troubles in my heart

To speak without restraint,
And to live without conformation.

A world that feeds my satisfaction,
Yet, I must leave, sometimes, I will visit.

I do not want to remain here for a long time,
Lest I become a prisoner of this reverie.