Treasure Island

Matt Ancient

(11 january 1985 / Africa)

A friend called success


Success is a friend to
Those who persevere
He is free and very fair
He speaks but they don't hear
So failure puts them to fear
They can't find success
But he lives near
The street of determination
Seek him in your imagination
And you will find him in your vision
You can't achieve success with force
But perseverance and endurance
For he keep changing his location
Through innovation

Submitted: Tuesday, February 05, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A friend called success by Matt Ancient )

Enter the verification code :

  • Nurain Ali-balogun (2/7/2013 3:08:00 PM)

    Truthfully said. Success is always there for all in various form, and the forms are becoming more diverse and disguised. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Cherishing Small Things, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  2. As I love you, Ruma Chaudhuri
  3. Lonley Nights, Michael McParland
  4. I Cant Afford To..., Bieze Josephat
  5. Life's Bizarre Puzzle, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  6. War's Homecoming, Edgar Albert Guest
  7. Rome, Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
  8. LET MORE ROOM FOR LOVE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  9. His Santa Claus, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. Pa And The Monthly Bills, Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]