Imagine you are lying on your death bed, and standing around your bed are the ghosts of your dreams, The ideas the ability's the talent, given to you by life for what ever reason,You never perused those dreams you never acted on those ideas, You never used that gift, and you never used those talents, And there the ghosts are there staring at you in your bed with large angry eyes saying: "we came to you, Only you could have given us life, and now we must die with you forever" And the question is? If you died today, What dreams what gifts what talents what ideas and what ability's will die with you, They call me a fighter, Everyday is a fight, But that's what i do i Fight....
