the truth never told me a lie; if one writes a thousand poems one has a thousand poems written; everyone sees the sky as blue; Chicken Little is the only one the poet knows to see the sky as falling, therefore, the poet can imagine what it must be like to wonder if the sky will fall on her too. Oh, and by the way it can happen because of you know that law (No, not Murphy's Law ((gotcha)) ), Godel's law. Well, time for a dictionary hey?! And even funnier, the poet doesn't have any screws loosw since the nuts and bolts of the poet are adjusted quite well anyways. Well, scrap that concept, the poet doesn't actually exist except for in some macabre, abstract, poetic, humanistic, peaceful way that for sure will cease within the next one hundred years. Therefore, the poet so shall choose to be the Biggest frickin', flippin' "Dreamer Be" in such a Divine sense as to ponder all things and mark the poet's fingerprints on life in sizzlin' accordance with the poet's law which is as follows: "Skip your mundane penchant for life and live a new existence-- exchange a size small life for a ginormous size dream life!" Skip to the beats with fervid heat. Off my soap box now, the poet puts her words into action-- Lights, Action, Creation. Dreamer Girl gives way to her Big Heart!