Not a act of desperation
A unquenchable thirst to succeed no question
Pure belief in the simple unknown
dirt covered dreams planted like seeds
forsaking personal hunger to cover needs
looming below the dark secrete is growing
like a old wooden barn in a tornado groaning
feeling the pressure in the air above
clawing at the soil like the feet of a dove
a final shove as the rain soaks your brain with growth pain
the first step to succeed is remember that as you grow you bleed
pushing up daises silently in time of need
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