Writer 9
“A successful man is one who can lay a foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him.”
Here’s a side-by-side view of 2 dudes, one’s named Vernon and the other Joe..
One was successful and crude, the other was wasn’t earning the doe..
Vernon would grab the paper from the vendor before passing the bridge,
Joe’d be wrapped in a blanket, Vernon would start laughing and cringe..
Not a piece of mind or change would be left in the bucket,
Vernon was tired of these homeless people who were infesting the slums, shit..
Day by day he’d pass by and Joe would leave him a friendly gesture,
Vernon wanted to be the one who would end these ‘’deadly’’ pesters,
Not realizing a the real problem was how society frowns upon the helpless,
When they’re the poor at heart and the homeless wouldn't stoop down around the selfish.
Vernon, a successful stock investor was at the peak of his life,
While Joe was around the trash cans mainly sneaking a bite,
Joe would jot down life experiences in his worn notebook,
He’d write about how he forgave Vernon when he got ignored, loaned looks.
Saved a few dollars in an old can from some of the generous offers,
Took a cab and brought his book, decided he’d try to meet w/ a referenced author.
The next day Vernon passed by, decided he’d go and rip Joe’s jacket,
Kicked his notebook down the side walk, shouted ‘’Go and get that, faggot!’’
The abuse went on for weeks before Joe had a chance to go back to the office,
The publisher agreed to go ahead and be backing his causes,
That year the stock market crashed and Vernon lost his wife and his money,
Had to sell the house, the cars, realized that this life wasn’t funny..
A weeks passed, Vernon grabbed the paper from the vendor before passing the bridge,
Saw Vernon on his way, but didn’t laugh nor did he cringe..
Stopped, took a breath and turned.. told Vernon he’d never forget those looks,
Handed him a 20, a pen, and gave him his own note book..
---------- Post added at 10:05 PM ---------- Previous post was at 10:01 PM ----------
Writer 24
“A successful man is one who can lay a foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him.”
Fist connected with jaw, hard - CRACK - a sickening crunch
Mouth dripping with blood, stumbled by how stiffly he punched
Vision flickering once, twice, but Jay wasn't quittin to duck
This bully the same reason he didn't get any lunch
Again quickly he lunged, Jay felt the fear in his gut
Hid it as he grabbed his collar, bully lifting him up
"Can't you fight back faggot? Like that was just damn pathetic
Fuck it, I'll smash your head in until you can't forget it"
A daily routine, Jay was getting pretty sick of it
But he was only 5'6'', the other guy was big as shit
Plus punches only hurt a little bit, it was the broken pride
The way each hit ripped his very character open wide
Make him hope to die, made him silent so he won't reply
All night when he'd choke and cry, knowing that it won't be fine
The bully spit as he threw Jay to the ground, didn't make any sound
Not a whimper or whisper as gravity was taking him down
Head slammed against a hood, neck jerked, then laying in the parking lot
Bully's form hard to spot, Jay's brain can't tell if it's dark or not
Consciousness all but lost in this, pain and cloudy thinking
Everything except his mouth was loudly screaming
Now he's dreaming, or at least close to it, slow movements
Himself in a vision, how he looks after he pulls through it
Muscular, fast as a jaguar, flashes of hands are
Smooth as a dance and he's moved past all the bad parts
He knows how to fight, untouchable, technique pristine as glass
Calculating each maneuver like machines do math
But better yet, he was content, happy strong and confident
Clearly a king amongst men, laughing off the compliments
That image in his mind's eye made that dark day brighter
And set him on the path as a world class cage fighter