My life was dictated through my professions

As it decided my home, my life, and was a good postal marking for it.

At the young age of 12

I was an apprentice.

Food was my payment.

I then fulfilled a dream of working as a steamboat pilot.

The best damn job ever

But all good things came to an end

And a war was starting.

A fight among men, among families and I fought the losing battle.

But before the end, my group disbanded

Which meant I was heading for the west, further from the fighting

And I became a gold miner, I wanted money like everyone else.

I also wanted respect for my family.

But with no money, I had to try again

Which meant another job

And this was when my life took off.

I became a reporter

Where I finally used my apprenticeship to good use.

I became well known,

A storyteller like no other.

Then I travelled, continuing to write.

Even though I loved my life as a steamboat captain,

It turns out writing was where my life was taking me.

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