On the ground looking down endless sounds of silence abound,
Feel afraid worry’s craze mess of thoughts like dreams un-made.
Breath is weak,
heart is heavy,
loss is steady.
Turning left, turning right, neither way presents much sight,
Look above, see that dove? the soft warm white of looking dumb?
Think again my childish friend, see it harder the way is smarter.
Reach out, pick yourself up, jump again and feel that flood –
Of hope not drowned, of ways soon found, a road to go where you’ll be crowned.
Walk that path, strut that shit, bounce that chin and act legit.
Behave, your ready, no more kidding, this road’s the one where you beat many.
– Thomas M. Watt