To My Son Poem by Ojok Isaac

Son, poverty and grief,
Will be your chief,
If you don't wake early,
From the snare of this world.

Run, if they are resting.
Climb, if they're seeking ladders.
Build your muscles, if they're losing,
But united you're stronger.

Dream more and think bigger.
Don't let dreams be your master.
Try, create something from none,
Or create something from one.

Million ways, success flows:
To those who open their minds,
Learn from their flaws and keep,
Trying it in Million ways.

If you fail to succeed,
Don't fail to proceed:
Muscles becomes bigger
When we lift heavy things.