Fold your wings ,
Stamp your fire
gather your things
Tone down the ire
Dull your brilliance
fog your senses
There is no chance
Dont air your vices
Your words your moves
wont be heard
For failure and shoves
Be prepared
Again and again
Setbacks will rain
You would think
Cry , shout and blink
What you thought
will come to naught
World belongs to luck
No place for pluck
you may work hard
But not seen or heard
On the destiny’s radar
No blip , no flik dear.
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