the grind...of a child with such imagination...that he can do anything with a cardboard box, a broom stick, and some determenation...sail the seven seas and those two big oceans... slay a dragon on his faithful steed in one swing motion...and rock every home with a song on the tv screen...making all the little girls screem...And to him this aint a dream...but his grind...something he did all the time..his 9 to 5 or his 9 to 9 cuz at night it was bed time...mission after mission damsel after damsel...rocking every mic from his mom's broom handle...they told him about heros, preached stories of kings and showed him the stars...I want to be who they are...but the world aint his imagination..he wasn't born into the position...And he bled from 9 to 5 doing things not of his creation...until he said I believe in Me...I will become all three!!..Think my grind is silly.... playtime will become my reality!!