Now the dream starts with a pencil in my hand.
I could start now and have my whole future planned.

I sit here so many thoughts on my mind.
I think back and wish I could rewind.

Where would I be if I would have thought twice.
If I could turn back that would be nice.

Sometimes I speak and I'm never heard.
That's why I have this paper filled up with words

My hand is getting tired but I can't stop writing
I want to get to the end where I can stop fighting

I have a pen now, I left the pencil in my past
This is only the beginning, yet time goes by so fast

What lies ahead depends on this pen
When all the ink is gone, I'll know I've reached the end.