Beat the Odds
by Ted L Glines
We see our people struggling in their pain,
as if their life is poisoned by a blight,
where all is seen in blindness of the night,
they straggle ever onward without gain,
just slipping sliding grasping hope in vain,
a fledgling soul which never can take flight
which cannot grasp the clearness of the light;
they fail to see the water in the rain.
My walk through life is easy realized
in spite of obstacles which do abound,
I do not trip nor stumble fall at all
for step by step my eyes are on my ground,
and looking up from time to time surprised,
I find my mountain not so very tall.
We make a job of every goal in life,
our odds are stacked against us in our strife,
but we could take the easy way,
and make our path a thing of play,
with faith to cut through madness like a knife.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem