In a land scorched by the sun’s fiery might,
I dreamed of lush crops, a verdant sight.
With circuits humming, sensors aglow,
I sowed not just seeds, but a skill to grow.
While others hesitated, fearing the test,
I dared to innovate, and let progress be my quest.
With wires that cradled roots like gentle hands,
I nurtured a farm, where sparks and mind expand.
They said, “Too small, too soon, too bold,”
But I pressed on, with faith as my gold.
Bill’s words ignited a fire within,
“To win big, risk with all your might, and begin.”
Now green leaves dance, where once only plans did lie,
A testament to dreams that touch the sky.
No throne I claim, no crown I wear with pride,
Yet my small field grew dreams, and let them glide.
