My time will come, under the rays of the sun, to be spoken of , by more than one, to be seen by none, to be remembered, that what I make is fun.

The long wait, makes us great, so we can be free, from all the hate, driving others mad, for all they forsake, keeping others sad, because they are fakes.

The long wait, helps us grow, by all events, for which to unfold, transpiring around us, for which to be told, to help us on our journeys road, as we make haste, to reap what we sow, and from the fruits of our labors, break the standard mold.

Skill comes, to those who are without fear, to be forged in minds without career, to be hardened, with the help of those unnear, to forsake those who are unwilling to hear, the voices of blinded seers.

Wisdom comes to those who are unashamed, to seek help, from all that have no fame, to grow with will, from all those blame, their own mistakes, on all who make their names.

My time will come, for all those who wish to hear me, and make great, the works that will free me, to express myself, the way I want people to see me, and made known, by all who wish to meet me.

I will be great, by my own hand, I will be made, by my own plan, to leave in destiny's wake, a touch of what I am, to leave what I make, in the hands of all woman and man.