A petal in the wind, flapping and fluttering, just floating along.
Seemingly dancing through the forest, to the winds silent song.
Spinning through the flowers of the valley where  the river runs.
No control which direction, it’s beautiful mayhem, taken as it comes.

A moment of weakness is only a moment not the rest of our lives.

But it only takes one moment of strength for us to survive.

The future is constant, ever changing and free.

A story to be written and the author is me.

A chapter may come and a chapter may go.

One a success, the other a failure, who am I to know?

They can never be erased the ink has already set.

But with each comes a lesson I will never forget.

My futures my story and the author is me.

For only I can dictate what it will turn out to be.