Success

The air I breath carries a message;
that success is not a lover of short-cuts,
More than a thousand breaths a day,
Miss a breath; the body will rot

The future is a story untold,
days to come are packed with surprises
I will wait and watch unfold;
The vespers of failures, as success arises

Need I work? Need I run?
Need I lift a finger to wear success' crown?
"Ask the ant", father said,
Those tireless things that build big empires

I see a tree whose fruits allure me,
Planted in the wild; the wilderness of pain,
hunger pangs, death's palm
One need endure to taste success' fruit

I have a little black ant,
Deep within a very dark voice;
"Work", says the ant, "dine", says the voice;
Striking a balance is success in itself



          - Olawale Ibiyemi