I want to be a singer
It feels good to hear myself
But birds did not share even a “tweet” of voice
I want to be a dancer
I love to see myself grooving
But motion is against my passion
I want to be a director
I like to put my imaginations into reality rolling on
But dark chocolates taste a few nightmares
But I think life is just the way it is
It flicks, and only mystery can give a magical view of what life is
But what does I really love to do?
I love to be a writer
I want to write even a little none sense of my thoughts
Pure thoughts can reveal a little puzzle of life.