A dream in the hand

Is worth two in the mind,

And yet I always have a few lined up.

And like the coach 

Of a championship dynasty,

I recruit a constant stream of winners.

I call one in, who’s been waiting

In the wings, and he takes his place,

Fighting his way to victory.

The gladiatorial challenge is 

Finally complete for a season.

The triumphant garland that he wears,

I share, quietly,

And see the ring we competed for

Last season,

Shining with diamonds,

Replete with glory that we give up

To think the thoughts of Life.

Survival of the fittest reigns.

But what is this “fittest”

That we speak of?

We will live to love and laugh again,

And be ready to vie for the golden cup,

Over and over and over again 

In this game of life, this ruse,

Where we choose to exercise our wills

To be true to ourselves above all else each day.

And I’d rather fail at loving you,

And know I’d given it all I had,

Than to stumble into some modern brand of success

That I wasn’t born to call my own.

I will contend on this playing field

That very few have even seen,

And I will win, though it may take 

My entire team to do so.

-jenn