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Stubborn
When I was young, I was told
I could be whatever I wish.
But I have learned it’s not always true
Be you a man
A dog
Or a fish.
I worked my fingers to the bone.
On me, the boss could depend.
He got rich.
And what did I get?
Torn clothes,
Sore back,
Split ends.
Some employees get ahead.
Now this I know to be true.
But if you look beyond,
I think you’ll find
That their biggest dreams fell through.
Happiness is relative,
I guess.
Where ever you go,
You are.
But losing a dream just for comfort?
‘Tis the most common crime, by far.
I will stay
In the ring.
Battered.
Surely bruised.
I’ll never let go of my dreams
And never ever be used.
I want the world to know my name
And my words,
To make others richer.
So that when I step out
Through these ropes,
All will emerge a victor.
And if I should leave it
In some other style,
It is still not a loss.
I did things
The way that I believed
And I
Was always the boss.
At least I know I tried.
-Jeff Gaines.
August 31, 2001
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