I hear the drums of my heart, loudly singing for my dreams to execute. I remember when I was little; ‘the greatest writer’ was my cadence. No, I haven’t forgotten my rhymes; I have just turned them to beatitudes. ‘Whoever is a hard worker will be the greatest writer’ am the commander of my dreams stomping heavily to lettering. Am by shank's pony a thousand speed per mile chucking in and out of the road. I remember when I once hurted my brain and lost my sanity; ohh I remember; How can forget? Everything was ambiguous with no future to reach the bastion. Although never recovered my lost wrecked pieces, but still hold to the stick of one day reuniting with my fellows. Life is a thrash about that I can attest. Sometime pinned to a cold yet rained on the slippery road. You might have sighted the grey clouds, started a marathon but you still lost the chase, at times you never saw it coming, you’re chicken poured with nobody to umbrella you. Life is like that, at times you lose, at times you break the record. Life is what you make it. Everybody tears down at times, but it’s how you feed the fears that counts. In most of the frozen falls you will stand alone, in the summer a thousand flies will flock your way. Life is all lessons don’t worry about the seasonal labels. Someday I will be at the peak with many beaks screeching my forename. Maybe am still the uncrown queen but someday princess of the playwright will be my designate. I can bet my blueprint will never say goodbye as it always lighting as the day, a souvenir that can’t go away. Now still a shadow searching for my right frame, neither a sinner to contain dozens of all this hope. Before a thousand crescents change their fate, I can bet I would have already revolutionized my state, that’s the least just wait and spot ‘the supreme authoress of the planet’ fitting my cranium.