A poem is but a thought, a mere memory caught at play. From hand onto paper, bleeding thoughts emerge.
A positive attitude, can turn a storm into a sprinkle.
Every failure is just another step closer to a win. Never stop trying.
Hands of time move us forward, never back. Only memories frozen in mind, can we re-enact.
Life is a challenge, and I'm staying in the game to win.
If my body were a tree trunk, the rings would surely reveal the time it has had to mature.