Roads

A word, a song,
a winter's mind.
A sentence, a rhyme,
is what it will bind.

A poem so gentle,
pieces heart and the soul.
The words slowly flowing,
the sea is it's goal.

The road is a long one,
as cursed as it's blessed.
Through mountains and deserts,
the whole way a test.

through words and through rythm,
it's my journey to take.
Losing makes stronger,
no thing is at stake.

That long road to glory,
it comes with a fight.
But winning's not important,
what's important, is pride.

Reageer (6)

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    Pride is not a virtue. Self-awareness and self respect are. (:

    Maar mooi gedicht. Winnen zal ik dus wel niet doen, maar tegen zulke concurentie wens ik mezelf een waardig verliezer te zijn.

    1 decennium geleden

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