There is a little girl in the park.
She calls herself Rosita.
No more than five,
She stands at the entrance
With eyes that shine,
And a smile full
Of the possible adventures
Lying ahead.
This playground,
She has named her castle.
On her quest for adventure,
She follows the sound of laughter.
Running to the Well-of-Possibilities,
She finds other friends already there,
Enjoying the adventures
The small girl
Was soon to discover.
They went from game to game.
That time she was chasing,
The other, she was being chased.
Once the princess,
And the other a witch,
Then a class pupil.
And later, the sister
To a family of adorable puppies.
Everything was possible in this park,
And the reason was simple:
In the confines of the South American
Slums, she called a dump a park,
And turned this park into
Her glorious castle.
Like in any fairy tale,
Dragons had to be slain,
And treasures were waiting
To be discovered.
All in all,
This was her world,
And this park remained,
Rosita’s Kingdom of Dreams.
