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Long Business Poems | Long Business Poetry

Long Business Poems. Below are the most popular long Business by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Business poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by Victoria Anderson-Throop | Details |

FIRST GLANCE EMBRACE

                                              
                                               FIRST GLANCE EMBRACE

  (HER STORY)

                                                      She grabbed his voice
                                                     Though conference din
                                                     Sought to win his gaze--
                                              But crowds of gabbers tottered in...
                                        He missed the sexy nod she sent his way--
                                      Distracted by a phone call--faded from his day.

                                                         But oh, that face....
                                                      Would not be gone....
                                                                 wild
                                                      bony visage--home
                                                          of passion's eyes--
                                                       Fate teased in him
                                                           her Paradise--

                                                                   an 
                                                            Upward Man
                                                   Brash Upward Plans--
                                    Of course, his heart must be attached--

                                                       Her stubborn mind
                                                    holds fast to dreams,
                                                         bows to Fate--
                                                   but loathe to schemes....

                                                        In sultry dreams
                                                       The night is theirs
                                                          Palm to Palm--
                                                    All answered Prayers.

                                                            Eyes exult
                                                      Besieged by bliss--
                                                     becalmed threshold
                                                          of moonlit kiss

                                                       she Owns his Face
                                                 sweet charmed caressing
                                                     that leaves no trace
                                                       but silent blessing


                                                               (His Story)
                                                              

                                                           Over a shoulder
                                                             behind a pole
                                                            he saw a face
                                                     that grabbed his soul
                                                           wild hair so red
                                                       his heart caught fire
                                                          hands of grace
                                                      could capture choirs

                                                          Laugh of bells
                                                       tolled 'cross the hall
                                                        just as he moved
                                                            he had a call--
                                          stepped out in search of quiet space,
                                                           cut short his call
                                                          yet lost her face--

                                                           She was gone...
                                                            Another man?
                                                            Abysmal sight....
                                                            a f_cking awful
                                                           maddening plight.

                                                         He's lost his chance,
                                                          in town One Night.

                                                         Her essence brands,
                                                         Flays bare his heart--

                                                          But business swirls
                                                        Worlds...seas apart--

                                                                 Mellifluous
                                                            tho' hard to place
                                                     She is a tune he can't erase


                                                            the Dreamers tryst
                                                            shake clouds above
                                                               Moon Shadows
                                                                      Glow--
                                                              She nuzzles love
                                                            and slips o-er him
                                                              in  Passion's Glove.

V. Anderson-Throop


Long poem by evrod samuel | Details |

The City And The State Of Play Today

THE CITY AND THE STATE OF PLAY TODAY

No one worries about morals today 
They follow the rules they create
So to them all is ok
Those on the outside looking in 
Are the only ones feeling queasy 
As avarice and selfishness triumphs
So easily 

Good corporate citizens they claim to be
Industry awards abound on their walls
As thank you tokens from themselves
Yet society harbours a lot of ill-will
As it feels the often brute force of 
The raid
 Grab 
And destroy mentality
Of people only wishing to make money 
Any which way 
While Using up all of society’s communal resources

Sharks abound
The waters are forever bloody as they 
Know no fraternity and would gladly 
Cannibalize anyone with no influence 
The ability to upend competitors
A cherished characteristic 
In a bullish machismo drenched environment 

Bullet proof psyches
Absorb and repel any pangs
About unfairness
Blocking any regulatory or chattering classes’
Attempt at nirvana and equality 
They employ better paid lobbyist 
So always have the upper hand 
In influencing policy 

The gravitational attraction of money 
Towards another even bigger pot of money 
Numbs any cautionary instinct
That would take a long term view 
The thrill of instant riches
Overpowers common sense 
And even decency 
Fat cats they all wish to be 

The slickness of glossy tongued lobbyist
Who spin wrongs till they become rights
Embolden oestrogen low males with no inbuilt brakes
To take risks that eventually cost them disgrace 
They are champions of graft not of society 

Loopholes in legislation
That were built in by too friendly politicians 
Coupled with ambiguous suits and claims
Cause far reaching hardship when the good old days are long gone 
The villains only muster some phantom national pride
 When begging for a lighter sentence 
Some are forgiven
Others fatally wounded by an unforgiving public

Lots of money can be made both legally and illegally
As one racket is closed another materialises instantly
The conveyor belt of dishonesty
Overwhelms bureaucracy 
Who is not David to the goliath that is money

The ethos is wealth
The acquisition and the maintaining of gains
Not often acquired through hard work
There is no limit of acceptable financial comfort
For the millionaire always wants to be a billionaire
And the mega rich super rich

Money must always be hidden from the taxman
Shareholders want tax free dividends
Investors want tax breaks for buying with other people’s money 
Infrastructure and new runways must be built 
But not from the pocket of those who wish it 

With their hands outstretched
And always wanting more and more
From a government too eager to please 
We have a tax system geared to the advantage of party donors
And non-domiciled moguls and tycoons
Who know no philanthropy unless it is tax efficient 

Disadvantaging society by  
Never paying their fair and moral share 
The largess they reap so selfishly
They wish not to share 
Wages are low
Taxes are nil
Only the investor wins as we pay his bills

Fast paced expansionist dogma
Is preached within city limits
Only the highest paid
The biggest company
The greatest profits
Are allowed 
They are held up as ideals that all who
Wish to succeed must follow
Gunslingers they all appear to be
Rushing in to capitalize on the wanton success of their peers
The cloud of misery left behind 
Is never seen for the look forward 
Never backward 
Hindsight is never welcomed in this parasitic environment 

The political will to weed out these reckless demons
Is lukewarm at best 
The revolving door of government creating opportunities
For industry and industry gratefully accepting politicians post government 
Ensures that self-interest is king 

An economy built on flawed assumptions of wealth creation
Is one that must forever be in hyper-drive
Creating ever expanding demand and supply 
That is as real as a thief’s conscience 
When taking the rings off a dead persons fingers 

Money must always be made for 
There is no alternative 
Wealth is good
Poverty to them is laziness

The city is not the heart and soul
Of the nation
It is but one player in a system skewed in its favour
We all must share in the wealth of this country
To ensure its longevity  


Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

The Doctor Is A Dead Man Walking

Bob had a special talent
That only worked in his men’s store.
He had ‘clothing ESP’.
He knew what his customers wanted…and more.

When customer would come into his store
Bob would invariably say, 
“Hello. I'm Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

And he was always right,
Never missed a color, fabric, style or size.
He even knew the necessary alterations.
Customers couldn’t believe their ears and eyes.

Meanwhile, in another part of town,
Joe had a pounding, relentless migraine
For every minute for more than five years,
It had driven him near insane.

He’d lost his job to the pain.
Then, he lost his wife.
He had lost a lot of weight and rarely slept.
Yes, his was a miserable life.

And, of course,  sex was out of the question…
Even a little self-abuse.
There was nothing left for Joe but pain.
He felt his life was of no use.

So, Joe went to his doctor.
“Doc, please help me end this pain.
Give me something to make me sleep
And never wake up again.”

“You know I can’t assist your suicide.”,
Then he looked sad, perhaps ashamed.
“I never dreamed it would last five years,
But I know how to end the pain.”

“You can make it go away?!
Tell me, Doc!  What’s the word?”
“I’ll have to remove your testicles.”
Was the last thing that Joe heard.

But…when he came to, it struck him.
Sex was out of the question anyway;
But he might enjoy his meals again,
And he could sleep for days.

“Please check me in, Doc.
This opportunity I cannot shirk.”
So, the doctor removed his testicles.
He did his very best work.

A few days later, Joe waddled along,
Headache free and feeling pretty nice;
But every attractive woman he saw 
Reminded him of his sacrifice.

He decided it was appropriate
To do something nice for himself for a change.
So, he went into a travel agency;
And a six month cruise he arranged.

As he left the travel agency,
He was excited, feeling ready to go;
But for such a glorious adventure,
He would need new clothes.

As he walked along, he saw Bob’s Men's Store.
He walked in, only to hear Bob say,
“Hello.  I’m Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

“How could you know?” asked Joe.
“It’s a gift.  I don’t know how, but I do.
You’ve suffered five years with an ailment,
Found relief, so now you’re taking a cruise.” 

Joe could not believe his ears.
How could this stranger possibly know?
"You're right! That's amazing!
And I'm going to need new clothes." 

Bob then laid out a fabulous wardrobe
All the right colors, fabrics, styles…and each size.
Joe was incredibly impressed.
He could hardly believe his ears and eyes.

“How do you like the wardrobe?”
“It’s wonderful!”  Bob could see that Joe was pleased.
“Now,” said Bob, “What about undergarments;
You know…shorts and tees?

Let’s see…medium crew neck tees, all cotton.
I believe that you prefer white….
And jockey shorts, all cotton…. 34s.
Yes, I'm sure that’s right.”

Joe beamed, “You’re an amazing talent
And I just this second realized,
You've laid out this entire wardrobe
And only missed one size.”

Bob, surprised by his mistake, asked, “Really?
What did I miss?  I did my best for you.”
“Well…you’re right.” said Joe, “I do wear Jockeys,
But…well…I wear 32s.

“Oh, no!” said Bob with an ugly grimace.
“That would be a serious mistake.
Thirty-twos would be too small, 
They would cramp your balls.
You’ll get migraine headaches.”


Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

The Last Laugh

One of Life’s indisputable facts:
Government reserves the right to tax;
And tho’ they waste far more than they should,
It’s supposedly done “for the common good.”

Economists use the word “propensity,”
Just a fancy word for “odds”, you see:
The odds you’ll save, the odds you’ll spend,
And how many Tax Dollars those odds will rend.

The basis for U.S. government budgets is “Total Tax Dollars Collected”;
And any overtures to reduce those collections are summarily rejected;
And should a source of taxes have declined or dissipated,
Other taxes are increased and/or new taxes are created.

Many, if not most, of these taxes are “regressive”.
That means their actual impact on income is “progressive”...
But “progressive” in a very negative way.
Relatively speaking, the Less you make, the More you pay.

Whether you make it or sell it, need it or want it, Congress will tax it;
And, once a tax is on the books, Congress has zero “propensity” to relax it.
Congresses, Federal and State, love to tax Luxury and Sin;
Smoking Sinners have had their taxes raised again and again and again.

Cigarette taxes are frequently raised, the “claim” is to drive users to quit;
But Truth is measured in Billions in taxes, so we know supporters are “full of it.”
Meantime, Non-smokers reap many benefits, while Smokers foot the bill;
And if that should change, Non-smokers would taste a financially “bitter pill.”

Taxed and taxed and taxed some more, but not yet into submission,
Smokers could shift their tax burden to Non-smokers…without their permission.
Yes, what if one Fateful day, those Smoking Sinners, Each and Every one,
Just put them down and said, “I quit.”; said en masse, “We’re done!”

Congresses would be clamoring to derive Billions in Taxes elsewhere,
At first, Non-smokers may not realize the impact they’re about to bear.
When an industry dies, businesses and people’s jobs are lost…it’s true;
But all those Tax Dollars must come from somewhere...the likes of me and you.

So righteous, whining Non-smokers maintained their hue and cry.
Ever pushing Congresses to tax those Smoking Sinners… tax them ‘til they die;
But after quitting, Ex-Smokers would pay less, while Non-Smokers would pay more.
Guess Non-smokers didn’t think far enough ahead, didn’t really know the score.

All those dreary anti-smoking ads, many of which falsified the cause,
Would disappear.  And what about all the useless anti-smoking laws?
Instead of Non-smokers not liking Smokers, Ex-Smokers would serve instead.
"The bastards are costing me money. I wish they had smoked 'til they were dead."

So, Ex-smokers would be getting healthier and spending far less;
And may be cause for some Non-smokers’ financial distress.
While they ruefully pay more, Ex-smokers' pocket books will attest
By reminding Non-smokers daily......the Last Laugh is Best.


Long poem by Shanity Rain | Details |

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  


Long poem by Carol Eastman | Details |

Clueless Job Applicant

You’ll never guess whom the cat drug in; have a day where you just couldn’t win?
He came strutting in, smacking his gum loud, dressed to the nines Goth Punk style.
Tats trailed down his left arm, with my notice, he said, saving up for the other arm.
When ask about drugs, his answer to me was: “Yes, I’ll share” most invitingly…

Metal adornments on ears, nose, and lips, didn’t want to know, the all of it, at this.
As I noticed, he smiled most cattily, asking: ‘Want to see where else they might be?’ 
Hair a Mohawk with a trail down his back, colors of the rainbow, left nothing to lack.
Steel studs on a black leather butt, said, ‘Bite Me!’ with each and every staged strut.

What are you kidding?… Do my eyes me deceive, or did he just make a pass, at ME?
No Way! I’d rather drop kick him from my office fast, didn't he have any real class?
The application, a Sales Manager Job. Who would try to send me over the deep end?
Bet it had been a practical joke, beginning to end, so I simply held on, my friend.

He must've read my face, forhe smirked, I continued to ask for his list of experience.
His experience was none, but he said he managed his I-tune collection, very well.
Of course, he was the Leader of his ‘Chat Room’. I wondered, ‘Who could tell?’ GEE!
Also an impressive set up on his Facebook page, for his innumerable video games.

I ask how he was qualified for ANY job? Said, Dad ‘THE CEO’ wanted him employed.
I verified this with a call, was told not to be too Harsh, he had Potential, after all...
Ask what job he wanted to give his son? ‘Let him chose himself’, came the real clue!
Ask him, what job he really wanted to do, ‘VP in charge of Recreation’ was imbued.

Said he'd check out all the great places, in his Dad’s fancy Porche. Honestly True!
I kid you not! And he wanted his girlfriend, made into his secretary, Yah! No Doubt!
Believe it or not, he got all he thought he was due. All approved by the CEO’s! True!
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better… I began to really reconsider…

Really, who had been clueless… It hadn’t been him!… Which left me in a dither…
Knowing I just couldn’t win!  I’d be glad when this day was finally, truly, done… 
The kid had probably thought this a great joke on me from beginning to the end!
My perfect job, had just come undone! Apparently, being in HR isn’t always fun! 

My college degree, that took so much sacrifice, no longer sparkled, so much to me.
Boy did I now WISH, I was a CEO’s SON! As I simply got all the paper work done. 
Later, I saw the family portrait on the CEO’s desk. Lucky me! One down!… 
Only eight more to go!

Carol Eastman and Hubby


Long poem by Poetryof Providence | Details |

Gravity

You have unfailingly demonstrated your love
      every law     supporting      our galaxy
is so      harmonious      that this
little blue paradise      could not exist
      every      thread      and       movement
so precise      we can measure
its movements right down to atomic levels
 
All so         this small space
could provide          everything         anyone
who had           any appreciation
might understand that we have
      been provided abundantly          every delight
in the way         of plans          for a Utopia
 
      Yet the movements      of every ruling body
of science         religions         governments          corporations
      seem bent         on destruction
tampering      with the finesse      of precision
      incorporated      in the molecules      of life 
Continuous self reproduction      and regeneration      in nature
right down to making           "seeds who self destruct"
      to make nature          exactly as themselves
 
I divorce publicly          these unions of violence
demonstrated in their every thought and deed
      poisonous words          poisonous chemicals
totalitarian ideology          pandemic to 
the leaders           of these factions 
      warring with each other          hoarding the
wealth       of a planet       given freely to
      the father of our species
 
And if you don't believe that
          then think nature gave it freely
of her every fruit         produced by her ground
          YOU WARRING FOOLS
who delight in the peril      and fall
of your own family
      who know not          nor recognize
your own worth      or the worth
of everything          and          everyone around you
 
No , but you      fall at the feet
admiringly of all               these mongrels
          the media who worship
          these fine movers and shakers
who roll      right over you      and think
you should be trained groupies
these men          who kill your planet
          with ideologies and philosophies 
whose very design          is to denigrate
your worth          and exalt themselves
 
Therefore       I will exalt      in your instruction
          the progenitor of life       for as surly
as we examine          the work of life
      we are moved      by its abundant wealth
freely shared      with all who live on this little rock
to examine          why we all are unable
to fluently          live          within its confines
 
I think I will not walk off the cliff today
gravity is my friend if I know her rules
 
 
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC


Long poem by Robert Nehls | Details |

THE LORD OF THE LOBE

"It's all in the earlobe," I heard him say,
And I wondered where I went wrong.
For my ears were lobeless , and I was weak,
But this ear full of lobe man was strong.
As I eagerly listened to each word said,
A strange thought occurred to me.
If my lobes were as long as the man's who spoke,
I could live to one hundred and three.

With thoughts of a man so healthy and strong,
The man I would soon behold;
In the mirror each time that I passed it,
With earlobes that bend and fold.
I was driven with strength and endurance,
As I searched for a way to expand;
My lobes 'till they hung on my shoulders.
Oh, the vision was far more than grand.

I developed a clamp just for fashion.
For the lobe must be perfect in shape.
Wrote love songs of earlobes and laughter,
And recorded them on to a tape.
There were weights of all sizes and measure,
With a Velcro attachment to cling.
A cute little box blue and padded,
In which I could store everything.

I was feeling a lot like a child,
Though, an eighth of an inch isn't much. 
The leg with the trick knee was healing,
No longer in need of a crutch.
Having dreams once again of the future,
It looked very bright, indeed.
Then I thought, I must share my good fortune.
There are people out there in need.

There are many that look for the answers,
Some that will travel the globe.
Tablets, elixirs, and God knows what.
But, the answer to life's in the lobe.
So, I learned all could on the subject.
It's amazing, the science is vast.
It was wisdom I wanted, and got it.
Then, the time came to share it at last.

I would speak of my searching through China,
And archives on earlobes worldwide.
There were friends testimonials given,
Their sincerity can't be denied.
There was hope in the eyes of the people,
That dreams set aside may come true.
It's the battle of earlobes and darkness.
I've the answer now here's what you do.

Then, I'd bring out the products developed,
Explaining each one as I went.
Speak of visions, dreams, and of answers.
How each item had been heaven sent.
I'd explain all the marketing levels.
How the top could be reached with some drive.
The world is in need of this wisdom.
Make a buck and keep others alive.

It was all very complex, yet simple.
Growing fast like a boy in his youth.
The people believed in my visions and dreams. 

But, I Alone Knew The Real Truth!

There are many that look for the answers.
Some that will travel the globe.
Tablets, elixirs, and God knows what.
And now, there's, The Lord Of The Lobe.





Long poem by Linda Witt-King | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/i_have_an_idea_and_im_writing_it_down_195458' st_title='I have an idea and I'm writing it down'>

I have an idea and I'm writing it down

Pastor Warren’s church in Orange County, Unity of Tustin too
There’s hardly anyone not affected; it’s sad but it’s true
Bottom lines are red, tithes & love offerings are lower
More people out of work, homes in foreclosure
Spending is dropping, business is slower.

Statistics say on average 34.5% of every dollar earned 
pays for interest on debt. Is that true? 
What if it’s more? What if it’s less? 
Whatever the difference, that’s surely a lot
When you think what it costs you to have what you got.

What if that interest could be diverted, transformed
to fund your kids’ education, your retirement
community resources & relief 
for those out of work or losing their homes
It can be done with technology available now
Put to use in a way not thought of before

I have an idea and I’m writing it down
We’ll create an annex to churches
much like is already done
with bookstores & day care & special events
It would house a credit union providing micro loans
teach entrepreneurship, financial solutions, education & more

We’ll have an internet café with alive water & foods
A venue for learning & networking & exploring strategies anew
We’ll find new ways to earn, to live, to spend & to save
In this place where we’ll gather to nurture, to nourish, to share & to have

Robert Kiyosaki of Rich Dad, Poor Dad lore
Said that the rich learn to network, the rest of us learn to look for a job
And when the jobs disappear
As they have this past year
Do we just throw up our hands & cry
What’s there to do? Oh me, oh my!

The Dalai Lama in September said
The world will be saved by the western woman
Which woman? you ask. Could it be me? Is he referring to you? 

I’m the center of my universe; you’re the center of yours
Can I save my world? Will you claim the power to save yours?

Community Wellspring
Water, Wellness, Wisdom and Wealth
An annex to churches
A model for living in today’s chaotic world
A solution whose time has come

Funded by interest currently paid to the bank
I’ll show you how, you’ll have UFirst to thank
It isn’t alchemy or magic; it’s just purely math
When you see how it works, you’ll probably laugh

And when we organize and network, we’ll create new revenue
For the churches, the community, for me and for you
By coming together, our world’s losses will end
We’ll be a force to contend with, our limitations transcend

Be a part of the solution
at From Debt To Equity dot com
It’s 2010
We are in charge of our destiny
Let’s make this a Breakthrough Year
…and do this thing


Long poem by Arnov Sett | Details |

I can do I will

While eating my morning bread,
A sudden impulse struck my head,
What if my mother doesn't get paid
No food; a voice from inside said
So simply that means you are dead….

What am I thinking; my first question to myself,
Why why why; a question interfered with my meal,
What about my potential that I nourished so far;
Will that go waste or remain unused like a jam in jar.

I decided to take this question with me to the market
Along with the list of things that kept in mind like cascade;
This question puzzled my actions in a nut shell
And finally realized, had forgotten to cary the basket.

The day was hot with a bright sun over the head
With sweat all around I struggled the market
To buy the things in the list I had read
Like the answer the things were also in a mess
And finally ended up in a cafe that had me fed.

The boy who served me with a can of lemon soda
And the sandwich with mint mayonnaise and red chili sauce,
Like a pendulum he kept swinging in my attention for a cause.
Now through his vision I thought of seeing this world.
Staying alive by earning tips by serving
Were something influencing my thoughts that of nature, bald.

Splash! The luke warm water hit my face,
Closed the tap and stared hard at the mirror base.
And then at my hands and shouted with all my wits
Yes, I can do it and yes I will do it; with voice raised.
It's the passion that kept my confidence charged at its best!

Organizing my room is what I did first,
Jotting down my qualities is what I did second,
Figure outing my targets is what I did third,
Planning down my schedule is what I did fourth,
And finally getting into the introspection mode was in the fifth.

For keeping my passion boosting I planned a lot.
Designed my room with all my ideas was worth a shot.
Re modifying my social circle was best of the plot.
And constant refreshing breaks in between kept on charging my thoughts.

Now when people tell me of their failures and miss happenings,
I suggest them to adore and celebrate their life,
And ask them to recite the following lines,

No matter how many failures do I face,
I will keep saying to myself, I can do, I will.
No matter how much patience do I loose,
I will keep saying to myself, I can do, I will.
No matter how much time do I shell out,
I will keep saying to myself, I can do, I will.
No matter how much hurt I am,
I will keep saying to myself, I can do, I will.
No matter how much path I travel alone,
I will keep saying to myself, I can do, I will.
I can do, I will  (2)


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