After you’ve died your thousand deaths,
And blanketed your sobs of dread,
Comes to time one must get up,
Yes, you really have to get out of bed.
You lost the race, neglected to vote,
Or, merely bombed your last interview;
Comes the time to go out the door
And discover how Life will ensue.
For we men and women are a forward-leaning type;
Taint natural to be always standing still.
We pick ourselves up, wipe off the dust,
And go yonder to see what’s over the next hill.
When in doubt, there is no doubt:
Rain will sometimes dampen our brow.
But, we shall learn as Life goes on
That’s often what it takes to grow.