I walk on the outside, yet my mind is in the midst of a forest.
No prizes or recognition to my name, yet I stand on the precipice of cliff and mountain near.
For, no more worthy am I of the many things in this world than another.
We all must strive for greatness, but with it, honor and glory oft not appear.
Yet, this day we raise, with one voice, our battle cry for the banner we all bear.
In unison must we march on, for one purpose belong.
If together we fight, together we'll die.
Yet, if no one be our guide, always will there be a fervent hand to hold.
- Author: Gildur Prausly (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: November 5th, 2024 17:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 34
- Users favorite of this poem: GenXer Shamrocker ☘️
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