Never are our good intentions remembered,
When mistakes we make take centerstage.
And judged with sustaining attention given to them.
People will remember the vision of one crawling.
But the only one who remembers the pain of standing,
With a commitment made to walk tall...
Is the doer.
Being there in the presence of others,
And left accessible to be scrutinized with wounds concealed...
Leaves more of an impression by those surprised,
Than deeds done that have survived time.
Or the countless efforts made again to run and heal,
After one has been blown down by adverse winds.
THIS is a personal quest no one can contest with objection.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.