Shackled by fear and prejudice he falls.
Each race is met with envy and despair;
He's yearning for fullness beyond compare.
Amidst a world chaotic and noisy,
Helplessly, a small voice cries in frenzy.
Its gentle graceful mitts, the only link,
To a hostile place that is out of sync.
Plunged into the deep pit of emptiness,
Everywhere there is shivering darkness.
The heart becomes the only spring of strength,
Pushes the will to stretch the entire length.
Though the field isn't fair, the game goes on;
In a contest called life, the clock moves on.
When the time is through, the judge shall ask you,
Did each hurdle bring out the best in you?
Then the real challenge comes not in winning,
But tackling each test without conceding.
'Coz ultimately, there are no victors,
Only the best and finest survivors!
