Looking into the mouth of failure and smiling.
Knowing that my thought processes are evolving.
All that matters is in the trying.
The daily determination to strive once more.
To further the struggle and keep resolute in
the underachieving of yet another day struggling.
To put your heart in another mans hands.
Knowing full well, he’ll squeeze the muscle dry.
To shed tears internally, quietly embracing failure.
Onwards and upwards are words that rattle in my head.
Clinging onto the faint opportunity to write all wrongs.
So the days drift into eachother bouncing off-one-another.
The blinkers are on for the heart is pumping furiously.
The path ahead is full of thorns but there is no turning back.
All at sea with no land ahead but keeping afloat whilst drowning.
Few see the feet of swans gracefully floating up the Thames.
Madly paddling underwater, the orange webbed feet beat hard
like an African drummer, thumping on skins, as the sun slowly sets.
by Joe Pollitt
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