We all have different ways of defining success.
Some say it’s a happier life after hard work.
But in simple, it’s just the reaping of our harvest,
The moment of gratitude to your soul.
For all the years of planting through muds clay and sand,
Through storms and all the oppositions of your dream,
Funny enough, it’s now that all the tough days
Are starting to make sense.
Now that my sight of future is in a clear vision,
All the vowels are starting to be useful to form up the sentence
That builds up my future, and that it’s because of
The hunger I have for my tomorrow.
Most sing the gospel of success, but why is it that no one is ever happy
To teach us about all the hiccups that comes with it?
Is it because we toddlers?
Should that make us lay down and give up our plans for our future?
The biggest secret behind every successful man,
Is the story of break down, but that never stopped perseverance.
From performing its part of reminding us that the future is the best.
If talent and hard work are your best weapon and luck is just a bonus,
Shall all this be useful to my fellow classmate?
All the best in the future.