My dreams

I lay on my bed to be absent for a while, but nothing happened. We are two in the room, me and my dear bed. The night was old, a whisper of wind would make it to fall to the past, but still a sign of sleep is nowhere to be found. I roll and make a stop, lying on my back and my two living eyes, up; gazing at the ceilings. I dug into my thoughts and began to think on so many things that were useful. Among the bunch, I figured out one among the rest, which I think is the most useful. Who am I? This is the question. Am I a loser or a dreamer trying to accomplish his dreams and be a winner? I don't know, and I think nobody wants to fail, but the action to perform a hard work, and save yourself from losing is the most hardest thing to do. Patience is the rule for everything, but me and you don't have it. I wanted to be a writer in a day, but that's impossible. I tried more than hard to learn how to write a name, but I end up inventing mistakes all the time. "We learn from our mistakes". Mistakes corrects, but not all knew about it. Who am I? I am the person that wants to be a writer. "Writing looks very simple, but its more difficult than it looks" says a writer. I am suffocating, running out of air, but I won't stop till I become a writer. I started to love writing since the day I can't remember, and I will learn to write the names of those that said "I can't and I should stop" . I am on my feet, ready to cross the obstacles. I pray to be a writer by God's grace. With Him all things are possible.