Standing Tall Poem by Mitchell Weidman

i will rise above, and win this fight,
do what i must, to make it all right,
to set it all straight, and reset all anew,
to make this place better for me and you.

i was born and molded, and my shell has broke,
i fought my way through fire and smoke,
to rise from hell, is but a second chance,
when everything is so quickly gone in but a mere glance.

created by my surroundings, i understand my place,
to know what i now except from this mere human race,
to be put somewhere so large, but still remain so small,
start one thing at a time, and in time conquer them ALL.

i fight my battles as they come, and defend from the worst,
sometimes you finish last, and other times first,
life's not a race just take it day by day,
and remember others are just mere pawns in this silly game we play.

one day ill be gone and somewhere in time,
a little one left behind, will follow the ropes i once had climbed,
along the road when i am only able to look down,
to see that smile upon their face, and know their angel has been found.

they will feel the pain and suffering i also once endured,
but to the hearts of many, it is just a cry for help wanting to be heard,
pick yourself up for you are only so small,
be the special one you are and remain standing tall.