If by Rudyard Kipling

I can distinctly remember that visceral moment of sitting on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands and tears flowing down my face. You see, I’ve always been a very motivated person throughout my life but some how in this moment I felt defeated. I became someone I didn’t recognize in that one specific moment. I allowed the anxiety, fear, panic and the thoughts of others to invade my mind. It was such a crippling and foreign feeling; I was the person who grew accustomed to helping others but here I was, allowing all that I feared most to devour me. I’ve always been good at understanding my own mind but this was different, it felt different. As I wiped my tears away I decided to turn to poetry. I LOVE to read and poetry is such a beautiful form of creative expression. When I read it for the first time, something clicked and I want to share it with all of you. I know it helped and continues to help me every time I read it, so I hope it does the same for you.


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

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