To that boy who lived on the streets
He had nothing before him
No fortune , No luck
Nothing to keep him going
No legacy left behind
No home to call his own
But he had something, most lacked
'WILL'
A thirst for achieving.
They told him to go work off in the sun, plough the fields and make things work
But he knew that wasn't what he was born to do
He was born into destitute, that he knew
But he wasn't born for mediocrity, so he built wings and flew
And he worked,
Not under the sun but under a dimly lit lamp
And he slaved,
Not under the rule of the landlords but under education
And he sweat,
Not through labour but by focussing his time and thought into books
He knew his road didn't have levelled pebbles much less flowers
He knew thorns adorned his path and boulders came crashing down at every turn
He wasn't told it would be difficult, he was told it is impossible
But he didn't listen
And he didn't waver
He just kept moving
Through time and tide
Through summers and winters
The rough and the wild
That boy who lived in the streets , taking shelter under a broken roof,
Who barely had a meal a day
Who beared the hate and the mockery everybody threw at him,
Whose veins pulsed with determination,
That boy made it.
He did at last.
And everybody watched and gaped
And didn't say a word
Because that boy who the world had destined to become a nobody..
Fought
He waged war against destiny ,
He wrote his own story till the end
And he succeeded.
He was Surrounded by humans who wanted him down, who wanted him to burn in his miseries
Yet He succeeded.
He rose above the hate, exhumed the fire and battled with fate.
And that day a noone became a someone and the world became speechless.
So
It's either power and luck
Of which he had none
Or hard work and will
Through which he turned his loses into wins.
Lucky are those who have the luck
Born into a family that isn't in abject poverty stuck
Yet all they do is take advantage
Success isn't cakewalk it's carnage
A deadly war involving the masses
Luck can get you only as far
It's only hard work that will raise your bar
Every second wasted is one second less
So get moving , you don't want to be another worthless jobless mess!
YOU ARE READING
DEAD FEELINGS
PoetryPenning down the extravaganza of thoughts that waltz in my head each day. Some dead, some alive, some barely breathing, but each one of them complete in it's isolation Some glooming, some blooming, some reflective and true, Some shrouded in shadow...
