The grass in my eyes cannot

Blind me to my purpose.

The blisters on my toes will not

Cripple my striving.

 

I will make the effort

And I will probably fail.

But what is failure

When you have friends

To lift you back up?

 

On a chilly breeze I send my joy

To mingle with that of others

In whatever manner they choose.

 

I will catch back up to it

When the season turn.

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