As each day breaks
I strive to climb
Hoping for the best
But I frail , fail and fall
Clouds of questions blur my mind was I created by a lesser God?

Hard work is my daily chorus
Hoping for a drop of water
Unfortunately the drops available are my own sweat

The next dawn I still rise
Hoping to catch the warm
But disappointments have become a norm
Is it a generation curse?
But I won’t throw the cards
I need to fight hard

I know I’m a champion
Success is my portion
I will work until the last edition
For a faint heart never won a fair lady

Jim the poet

The Writers Pen is an organization that was formed to help upcoming writers to reach their potential goals through mentoring,exposure, marketing and promoting their works.

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