It rained again that special day, Dashing another of my hopes. Losing being not so uncommon, I slid again that downward slope. Being hit on the head multiple times, One may feel dizzy, choose to opt out. Like the grandfather clock's loud chimes, Some persist, though not on a cloud. Out of those few, a rare few will Succeed, yes! I know these all. At times you have no answers . You will Hope you'll get them later after all. I do what I like to do. That's all that matters to me. I may fail more times. That's true. I can't do something else. You see? I take inspiration from the Pounding rain that hits me hard. Each small drop may sure not be Strong, but together, drives you mad. If what you do doesn't consume You, then figure out why it is not. Raw facts are better than to assume That you will sooner get a start.
