A little self-mentoring: A poem 

I may not bridge a river, but I can live a span 

There is a wind that lets be and lets go what I can 

Even daylight can be misty, yet moonlight can be lucid 

Some decorum in no regrets about what I didn’t and did 

I can be a guest of loneliness, and a stranger to a friend 

Lone courage is the byline of the athlete that runs the bend 

The skyline of the mountain is where the rainbow descends 

It is the colour that is sought after, not the pot of the gold at the end 

All the little boats that stay afloat are the kings of the stream 

Those nose-deep in brine may drown or learn to swim 

Survival be a millstone, but the marathoner doesn’t shy 

He ignores all his hunger, so his appetite doesn’t cry 

Expectations are a fire that can burn your own house down 

Look no further than the celebration in your own little town 

The cheer of money is unlike the wealth of aromatic flowers 

In the twilight side of life, it can’t take you to the stars