Strapped to a saddle.
And bucked.
By a steed I chose,
I knew wild enough...
To do its best,
To see me land and grounded...
On my butt.
But...
Unknown I had chosen it,
For the experience I would get.
With a holding on determined,
I would not quit to give up.
Nor would I sit if bucked off.
Since I too knew what it was,
To have something strapped...
On my back to have it believed,
A journey that had been picked.
And for me...
Could and would be that easily abandoned.
Strapped to a saddle.
And bucked.
By a steed I chose,
I knew wild enough...
To do its best,
To see me land and grounded...
On my butt.
But...
I am not the kind,
To find obstacles...
Planted to put fear in my mind.
With a purpose to prevent,
A mission I will finish.
Until I know it done.
Bucked.
But a getting back up,
No matter what the circumstance...
That may enhance,
A fear to undo my desire to succeed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem