Math may cause
Your ground to crumble
Words may cause
Your tongue to fumble
Running may leave
You gasping for air
Your singing may sound
Like a dying bear
So you hang your head
Low to the ground
Tend to cry
When no one's around
Claim to yourself
I can't do anything right
Everything I try
Is like a no-armed fight
I am defeated
By words, numbers and braun
This she whined
From morning till the next dawn
Until a voice
From somewhere within
Asked, "How many of these things
Have you stuck with till the end?"
Well none I'm no good
What would be the point
Because to be any good
You must first disappoint
Greatness takes practice
Sweat and heart
And the only way to be awesome
Is to finish what you start
It may be a year,
Two, three or four
You may be smacked in the butt
By 10 closing doors
All that matters
Is when you do what you do
Do it until
you become the best version of you
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