Drive

What others see as an ocean,

to you is little more than trival commotion.

Like puddle after a crisp rain,

you travese that watery obstacles others have tried in vain.

What others see as a unclimbable wall,

which those who tried to climb, nothing but disaster and despair befall, 

you pass over without so much as a sweat.

Question you they do, on your superhuman feats, yet,

"Simple," is your frequent reply.

"All I do is, to the best of my abilities, try."

 

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741