"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."
— Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene V
Some are born to crowns and gold,
With power strong and wealth untold.
Some will climb, with sweat and pain,
To carve their names and stake their claim.
And then there’s me—a simple bloke,
Who’d rather nap than wear a cloak.
Greatness came, it knocked, it screamed,
I locked the door—it must have dreamed.
For who would trade a peaceful life,
For throne-room squabbles, royal strife?
Give me books, a pint, some cheese—
Let others rule, I’ll take my ease.
So take your greatness, shove it far,
I’d rather be right where I are.
Someone once told me when I was afraid to show who I really was,
“To be not afraid of greatness, some are born great, some achieve great, and
some just have greatness thrust upon them,” Everyone is special, It’s whether
you choose to show your beauty,
Or keep it within yourself and let it drift away with your wondrous spirit.
It’s whether you say yes, or no.
It’s whether you take a challenge, or chicken out.
It’s whether your braver then the blind and cowardly.
It’s whether you stand up for yourself, or let your confidence fly away with your
happiness.
It’s whether you’re as strong as the wise or as scared as the bird that fly’s away
as someone walks toward it.
It’s whether you can stand up in front of the world and yell, “I am beautiful”, or
stand in the corner and hide like the rest of us.
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