This is a poem that has been provided to us from IMS. I would like you guys to read this and find out the beauty of the lines:
When you are lost in the wild, and you are scared as a child,
And death looks you bang in the eye.
And you are sore as a boil, it’s accordingly Hoyle,
To cock your revolver and …Die
But code of a man, says: “Fight all you can”
And self dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh it’s easy to blow…
It’s the hell-served-for-breakfast that’s hard
You are sick of the game! “Well, now, that’s a shame.”
You are young and you are brave and bright.
“You have had a raw deal!”, I know- but not squeal.
Buck up, do your damned best, and fight.
It’s the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don’t be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it’s so easy to quit:
It’s the keeping – your-chin-up that’s hard.
It’s easy to cry that you are beaten-and die,
It’s easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when the hope is out of sight,
Why, that is the best game of that all!
And though you come out of each grueling bout
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try – it’s dead easy to die,
It’s keeping – on – living that’s hard.