One of the greats

One of the greats is that what I'll be a chaucer,a twain,a Shakespeare?my tales ,my adventures,my plays,with all the world a stage will my words sing loud enough to make it to peirs?


what's done on the Internet last forever ,so is forever an eternity of words wrote made me as whole together?


Words are wind so it's always blown so do mine flutter away unseen or thrash through the trees grasping at the leaves.

For a story the end it must begin so it seems to start. so does mine fade to black in the hole they shut me in or when pen and paper part