The Seed

A golden seed’s been sown in me,
But I’m such barren soil
It can’t become a shady tree,
No matter how I toil.

But that’s all right. Yes, that’s OK;
It’s not each person’s lot
To win the race or seize the day,
Much less to hit the spot.

It doesn’t mean I’ve been enchained
Because I’m not “the boss”;
A wealth of worldly wisdom’s gained
In failure, need and loss.

Besides, within its yellow shell,
The seed contains its fate, as well.

Photo by Lubo Minar on Unsplash

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