Life can be so cruel
I know, I've been a victim of its wrath
I dreamt of riches like a fool
But never found that golden path
I see others that have so much
But it's not envy that I feel
Just wish I had the Midas touch
Wouldn't that be ideal
I don't really have much wealth
But I have some good things on my side
Like my family and my health
And I also have my pride
So life and I will struggle on
I'll give it a run for its money
Not giving up till I've won
And living in the land of milk and honey
- Author: Ms. M (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: July 13th, 2018 14:40
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Comments1
If there was anything I'd like to say to you it would this Rudyard Kipling poem 'IF'. It's my favourite poem of all poems....
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
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