As she set her foot upon the ground,
 Something pricked her She held it in her hand, 
They were pieces, very small pieces
 Shiny but sharp,
 In bright light, they sparked
 What are they? She whispered to self 
'Someone's dreams', a voice nearby said 
Dreams? She scorned aloud
 Impossible! Impossible! Was her only shout.
  How can someone trash their own dreams?
 When they are the ones that make us lead
 Poor weak soul, thats all she could say
 And with a pride, she walked away 
Life was fast, faster than she thought 
Perfect so far, with nothing to regret
 She believed in herself, in the goals she had set,
 Thinking, one day, all her dreams will be met,
 She ran and ran, chasing them wild 
But all she got was some more to strive
 It was when she asked herself,'is it really worthwhile?'
 And the same voice echoed,'not in the lesast, you lady naive'
 And then she had to go thtough the hardest part,
 Scratch away the dreams, making it trash
 Someday someone would look at those pieces
 And say ah what a poor wreck she was.