The strong are weaker, the weak are the strong
Both check up each other
Till there be only one checkmate
One with the bomb to blow the mind
That the other may fall prostrate or bow
The skinny talk of their bones to be hard
The obese say they have the fatty oil to grease
All are here and there
Trying to be dear and near
Seeking the times
To use some others as the ladder
No matter the ordeal or order
To go to and fro; down to up
In the bid for a staff
The eye will continue to see: even now
The walks of the hand, the works of others
The travels of the thought, the travails to be taught
Blame it to the right or the left
Things fall apart or not
The centre can hold or not; it remains visible
Still the same vantage point
Don’t be sick, always seek
Don’t be ill, but climb the hill to its peak
It’s a thing of the mind
It’s not how fast or how far
Not the fame or the games
‘cos when you find out
You know it’s who you really are
