Who Holds the Pen

Let me tell you a story It begins on a whim and a pray The skys were blue The sun shine through The sky was no limit The potential was there The voice was true The heart was steady Then the negativity You'll never have a voice for radio You'll will never marry the one you love You'll never have 2 kids Your regret will always lead you forth Your fear will be the driving force You'll chase all the love away Your begining will always be a tragic end Your reflection a ghost of yourself Cold and clammy to the touch Your eyes will never see the light Your mind has set the autopilot to your demise In this story there seems to be no happy ending But in fact there is no begining no middle or no end You see this story has not been written from the pen of change Its been written within a bubble of insecurities So this story has no chance of becoming the greatest of all time till the mind set changes and that pen becomes the pen of possibilities My friends tell me now who holds the pen.