I want to be a published writer.
Nothing ambiguous, just a poet.
Of course, I want to be a hero,
A strong spirit,
But I want to make a living off of putting letters into words,
Making sentences that mean something to someone,
Onto beige pieces of paper bound by
A leather cover with my name
Embossed down the spine
In gold ink.
To write would be amazing...
I would be myself, completely.
Isn't it pretty to think so?