[Image source][htrps://www.facebook.com]
Blindly running a race
Hotly like a freshly roasted maize
The fellow moves in a daze
Not realising the fruitfulness of this race
With a jolt he was woken
Now he remembers all that was spoken
This earth is vain
And even more so is crookedly acquired gain
So much for he that runneth and chaseth the wind
keep on walking and never stop achieving your dreams even as high as the sky.
Thanks