The Journey
The razor edge stones grab at my soles
The dust it clings and it cakes
The dry burning sun gnaws at my skin
And the wind my spirit it shakes
A long twisting road I've been chosen to walk
As I climb to the summit of life
With bruises for jewels and silvering hair
As a crown for enduring the strife
When asked, If I could would I change my past
To become a much improved me
Then I must reply with honest resolve
If I did, today I wouldn't be me
For the troubles of life hammer the soul
And the fire forges the spirit
They form a character strong and brave
That can welcome th trial, not fear it
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