Hubris

A man who thought he would fly, got too close to the sun, set the ancient example that’s told to everyone. A ship that they claimed never would sink beneath the waves, until a looming iceberg sent folks to frozen graves. A man who thought his troopers could whip all Indians, died at the Little Bighorn, one man could not kill ten. A candidate the news thought impossible to beat, oh, the moans we hear the night she met a sound defeat. A Soviet hockey team that hadn’t lost before, feared not, ’till our college kids went ahead in the score. A president who proclaimed that now the Earth would heal, instead turned to race-baiting, a messiah not real. A general who ordered the charge at Gettysburg, hundreds dead striking up hill... should have heard Longstreet’s words. A writer who thinks that his poem might just be great, but the autorank declares that he just doesn’t rate. Northing ventured, nothing gained; it’s a good sentiment… but how do we duck hubris, yet keep our confidence? Where’s the line?