Success they say, is hard to come by
Hard to achieve, and harder still to retain
Thumb on the scale, tipping the balance,
Or so it surely seems
Blessed I suppose, for all those who repose
Amid swaths of silk and satin
For those who remain, have naught but the strain,
And life's forgotten memory
Success they say, is naught but skill
The skill. The talent. The nerve.
You're told to take what you want,
But do not give unless you're given in return
Do you not wish upon others,
The chance with which you have gotten
To be where you now reside?
Give them the chance to find a new path
Find a new road to follow,
For each would find another way
Of happiness
