It may look like lies,
The kind that stinks to the invitation of flies
But there is a bigger you ahead
And I’m not just talking height cred.
No, it has nothing to do with advancement in years
There will be hot tears
But after it, trust me, shall come the cool rain
Cooling your bones and soothing the pain.
Walk a little more
Yes, your feet may be sore
Crawl if you must
But remain not in the dust.
Otherwise you miss out on what’s lying ahead
And all the celebration at the hall of mead.
MR. SPECTACULAR
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