Max Jason Wallace
Stand Against The Storm
Here I stand a seedling, against the endless storm.
What small chance have I, to grow up to the norm?
Oh, the dauntless perils I face, each 'n every season,
And how I seem to thrive, to me’s beyond all reason!
Today I bend against, the mighty winds so savage.
Continually exploiting, my weaknesses they ravage.
One day I'll stand tall, against the wicked storm!
The best of which will leave me, battered 'n worn.