As I ruminate on all my weakness;
considering what life is about;
perhaps my greatest is meekness;
expressed in the power of doubt.
Sometimes I think I’ll do anything;
such thoughts; quickly wiped out;
obsessed with what failure will bring;
and blocked by my very own doubt.
My vision tells of a success to see;
as one exceeds expectation;
But, I can’t imagine that one as me;
not expecting my own coronation.
There are many mountains to climb;
but I’ll never reach their top;
by my fear of heights, I’m defined;
and such doubt, my progress, stop.
Many are things I’m gifted to be;
special things I’d like to do;
none of them seem to apply to me;
I’m unable to follow through.
Success never seems be my destiny;
it’s always found hiding neath a veil;
no way I’ll ever find success for me;
for I know that I’m destined to fail.
Destiny comes only when we believe;
one thing on which we rely;
you can do anything you can conceive;
but you can do nothing; till you try.