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Sitting at a desk Trying to stay in context Before the big test
No man shall choose another’s destiny Gods among earth we are not My work will drive me as far as I let it For this is where ambition and wishing will split Humble actions influence outgoing impacts
As a child we grow up knowing exactly what we want to be when we actully grow up   A fire fighter is what I wanted to be The red lights and water is what excited me     But the tragedy of 9/11 also frighten me
Philosophies Drift amuck in a waterless world Catching on to anything Within hand’s grasp   We strive to find purpose To stake our land To hold our place To say “we were here”  
My yellow brick road is outlined
I want to go into business and economyMake some money and change the way people thought of meI'm tired of people thinking I can't do it like I'm just an act of comedy
The natural foliage creeping down the counter, Draping over the polished tanned walls. Reflecting ergonomic finesse, Cleanly tracing the muscular lining, Of a fresh carcass.  
Once you turn your face heavenwards; To engage in daily conversation that is, to return to Earth, merits a physical un-tilting of the head; from the angled to the staid, erect position, eyes intently glazed over.
Mahmoud A true story   My mother and I stood in the Afghan refugee camp Solemnly and nervous, I stared as they stared back "This is where I came from," she said to me
We all have a goal in life, Become a ballerina, baseball player, or be in the circus. My dream is to become a National Geographic photographer.
I want to touch the soul, with words that sounds like gold. I want to hold the world's feelings in the words of my notes. I want to behold the power to have my written word uncontrolled.
 I’m lost. I know that much.
I've got six sources of dreaming, clear The words all tumble bright, and fear Is choking cloaking, smogging roping Round my throat and twixt my ears. What am I doing here? I'm learning phonetics,
“All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts” - William Shakespeare
In a new studio
Walking down the street I see them Picking up the trash off the street  Without them I wouldn't have somewhere to walk Without them, my life would change   Walking into school I see them
The type of job which would change my life is becoming a famous author. The way becoming a famous singer would change my life is everything I did the public would know about. I wouldn't really have a free moment to myself.
All my life, it's been You point the way, I'll get us there. I'll struggle through, and reach the goal. I can overcome any obstacle, but don't know where to start. Today, I take the wheel.
I am a flower in the desert, holding out for the rain. The sun has been hot and taunting, mocking my goals and my name.
What is my dream job? Some may call it outlandish and immature Others say it is stupid and naive But I want to be a famous musician   Lights shining on me While people stare and see
This war Is about blood, tears, and death This war Sees a little child heave a last breath But there are no guns, no bombs No battlefields that we can see For the war rages forever on
  “Miss, may I show you to your suite”
  One Journey, one road, one story? No. Exploring, doing more, and expressing my inner joy is my future job.
Sharing the knowledge of my obtained wisdom With young minds, eager to learn and flourish Is the most noble of desires that can be had
They say that hatred is a fireThat eats at your insidesAnd it isAlong with jealousy and ambitionAt times it seems I carry all of theseBut I've learned to push down my angerTo be content with what I have
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