Who knew?

Who knew what I would become?

Didn't know when I was telling stories under the dryer I would soon turn them into poems.

I wasn't quite sure when that simple tone that got caught in my head would be the melody to the first song produced by me.

At the age of five when I decided I wanted to live my life in lights didn't know that my audience would surpass the

granite floors

Unswept hairs

And the smell of relaxer

I didn't know that the sounds of the hot comb entering the plate

or the flat iron curling that last strand

would turn into the snaps and claps of those listening to me.

When I was just a shop baby I didn't know what I could become.

I wasn't aware that I was just a caterpillar in a world of butterflies who would too learn to fly.