Though I walk through the valley of death

I will pass through still having intact my breath

And I pass through the storms of life

I will come out even better not minding the strife

If friends or foes drag me through the mud or manure

I’ll come out clean and fresh as roses smelling fresh and pure

Wise men build a house with the bricks others at them throw

If comfort cushioned my every fall how then would I grow?

I will choose to believe when others are in doubt

Getting up after every fall for that is what life is about

While others choose to lose their minds I will keep my cool

Thouh I hold my tongue while others talk doesn’t mean I am a fool