If I took out the time to write the story of all the things that my mind has manipluated     into images to make me believe that it was my destiny to become some lyrical genius to help people cope with the demons that feed off the hopeless negative enegry that

sleeps within us. It would trace back to my 5th grade year when my godmother died and I found a gift of writing as in escape to cope with the hurt of her leaving me. Life changed when the pen hit the paper and my words becoming a since of movtivation to all the young women searching for answers and how to be saved from these slaved streets of young hustlers tryna slave our young women by making them young mothers and pushing them to make a quick dollar to survive in this jungle called life. And my poetic justice would become justice and lift the spirits of those in  need and listening to my words taking them seriously.

I would be a young poetic motivational speaker.