A letter to myself

A LETTER TO MYSELF

 

Against hope, belief

Decode the pending odds

Think not to leave

In your hand lies a great rod

 

The alleys look arduous

As vouched by great men

Who bisected the radius

By the power of their pen

 

Like a raisin in the sun

Young promising flowers faded

Been scared of the long- run

Of an unending date 

 

Though a dream deferred

With a weighty tarriness 

Never you be deterred

For the end is happiness

 

So hold unto your heart

There, lies the debut

To unlock a new path

Of explosive output