As each day breaks
I strive to climb
Hoping for the best
But I’m frail, I fail and I fall
Clouds of questions blur my mind: “Was I created by a lesser God?”
Hard work is my daily chorus,
Hoping for a drop of water.
Unfortunately the drops available are my own sweat
The next dawn I still rise,
Hoping to catch the warmth
But disappointments have become a norm
Is it a generational curse?
But I won’t throw the cards
I need to fight hard
I know I’m a champion
Success is my portion
I will work until the last edition
For a faint heart never won a fair lady