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Without rebuilding the confidence between parties, you will never succeed.

quote by Harri Holkeri
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Confidence

(words & music by tepper - bennett)
When everyone thought the world was flat
Columbus said its round
He went down in history
And america was found
cause
He had confidence
A little thing called confidence
Theres no job too immense when youve got
Confidence
With a c and an o and an n and an f
And an I and a d and an ence
Put em all together and what have you got
Confidence
Youll be surprised what you can do
If you will only try
Remember the tortoise and the hare
Who had that famous race
The speedy hare wound up nowhere
And slow poke took first place
cause
He had confidence
A little thing called confidence
Theres no job too immense when youve got
Confidence
Youll be surprised what you can do
If you will only try
How do you know that you cant ride a rainbow in the sky
Youll be surprised what you can do
If you will only try
All you need is confidence
A little thing called confidence
Theres no job too immense when youve got
Confidence
With a c and an o and an n and an f
And an I and a d and an ence
Put em all together and what have you got
Confidence
Confi ..... confi .... confidence

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Remember Struggles From The Bottom

Pick up those feet and leap!
Believe you can conquer,
Over obstacles to defeat.
With a beating done to erase and cease.

Remember struggles from the bottom.
Know what was done to step away from it.
Never settle for the minimum.
And,
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.

Pick up those feet and leap!
Believe you can conquer,
Over obstacles to defeat.
With a beating done to erase and cease.

Remember struggles from the bottom.
Know what was done to step away from it.
Never settle for the minimum.
And,
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.

Remember struggles from the bottom.
And
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.
Know what was done to keep your dreams focused.

Remember struggles from the bottom.
Know what was done to step away from it.
Never settle for the minimum.
And,
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.

Remember struggles from the bottom.
With a boosted confidence.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
With a boosted confidence.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
With a boosted confidence.
Remember struggles from the bottom.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All Tomorrow's Parties

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
A hand-me-down dress from who knows where
To all tomorrow's parties
And where will she go and what shall she do
When midnight comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns
To all tomorrow's parties
And what will she do with Thursday's rags
When Monday comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
For Thursday's child is Sunday's clown
For whom none will go mourning
A blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gown
Of rags and silks, a costume
Fit for one who sits and cries
For all tomorrow's parties

song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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All Tomorrows Parties

(reed)
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrows parties
A hand-me-down dress from who knows where
To all tomorrows parties
And where will she go and what shall she do
When midnight comes around
Shell turn once more to sundays clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrows parties
Why silks and linens of yesterdays gowns
To all tomorrows parties
And what will she do with thursdays rags
When monday comes around
Shell turn once more to sundays clown
And cry behind the door
And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrows parties
For thursdays child is sundays clown
For whom none will go mourning
A blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gown
Of rags and silks, a costume
Fit for one who sits and cries
For all tomorrows parties

song performed by Velvet Underground
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2

ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
“Great queen, what you command me to relate
Renews the sad remembrance of our fate:
An empire from its old foundations rent, 5
And ev’ry woe the Trojans underwent;
A peopled city made a desart place;
All that I saw, and part of which I was:
Not ev’n the hardest of our foes could hear,
Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear. 10
And now the latter watch of wasting night,
And setting stars, to kindly rest invite;
But, since you take such int’rest in our woe,
And Troy’s disastrous end desire to know,
I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell 15
What in our last and fatal night befell.
“By destiny compell’d, and in despair,
The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war,
And by Minerva’s aid a fabric rear’d,
Which like a steed of monstrous height appear’d: 20
The sides were plank’d with pine; they feign’d it made
For their return, and this the vow they paid.
Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side
Selected numbers of their soldiers hide:
With inward arms the dire machine they load, 25
And iron bowels stuff the dark abode.
In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle
(While Fortune did on Priam’s empire smile)
Renown’d for wealth; but, since, a faithless bay,
Where ships expos’d to wind and weather lay. 30
There was their fleet conceal’d. We thought, for Greece
Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release.
The Trojans, coop’d within their walls so long,
Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng,
Like swarming bees, and with delight survey 35
The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay:
The quarters of the sev’ral chiefs they show’d;
Here Phœnix, here Achilles, made abode;
Here join’d the battles; there the navy rode.
Part on the pile their wond’ring eyes employ: 40
The pile by Pallas rais’d to ruin Troy.
Thymoetes first (’t is doubtful whether hir’d,
Or so the Trojan destiny requir’d)
Mov’d that the ramparts might be broken down,
To lodge the monster fabric in the town. 45
But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind,
The fatal present to the flames designed,
Or to the wat’ry deep; at least to bore
The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore.
The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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It would be a dangerous delusion were a confidence in the men of our choice to silence our fears for the safety of our rights; that confidence is every where the parent of despotism; free government is founded in jealousy, and not in confidence; it is jealousy, and not confidence, which prescribes limited constitutions to bind down those whom we are obliged to trust with power; that our Constitution has accordingly fixed the limits to which, and no farther, our confidence may go; and let the honest advocate of confidence read the Alien and Sedition Acts, and say if the Constitution has not been wise in fixing limits to the government it created, and whether we should be wise in destroying those limits; let him say what the government is, if it be not a tyranny, which the men of our choice have conferred on the President, and the President of our choice has assented to and accepted, over the friendly strangers, to whom the mild spirit of our country and its laws had pledged hospitality and protection; that the men of our choice have more respected the bare suspicions of the President than the solid rights of innocence, the claims of justification, the sacred force of truth, and the forms and substance of law and justice. In questions of power, then, let no more be said of confidence in man, but bind him down from mischief by the chains of the Constitution.

quote by Thomas Jefferson
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Social Outings

Have you realised
That the more
You go for
Social outings
The more you
Increase your
Monthly spendings
On costly outfits
Flamboyant recipes
Expensive gifts -
Just to impress
Each other
As per society's
Askings -
Or you get
Left out -
By the social strata.

Kitty parties
Hen parties
Stag parties
Bachelor parties
Couple parties…
The list of these
Events is endless.

If you
Want to keep
Climbing up
The social ladder
And keep maintaining
Your position
Up the ladder,
You can keep
Going to these
Social outings,
To impress
Each other,
And outdo
The other's
Cravings -
For the best attention,
Huge monthly
Expenses, no matter.

But I've
Taken myself
Out of this trap.

I've

[...] Read more

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The Borough. Letter I

'DESCRIBE the Borough'--though our idle tribe
May love description, can we so describe,
That you shall fairly streets and buildings trace,
And all that gives distinction to a place?
This cannot be; yet moved by your request
A part I paint--let Fancy form the rest.
Cities and towns, the various haunts of men,
Require the pencil; they defy the pen:
Could he who sang so well the Grecian fleet,
So well have sung of alley, lane, or street?
Can measured lines these various buildings show,
The Town-Hall Turning, or the Prospect Row?
Can I the seats of wealth and want explore,
And lengthen out my lays from door to door?
Then let thy Fancy aid me--I repair
From this tall mansion of our last year's Mayor,
Till we the outskirts of the Borough reach,
And these half-buried buildings next the beach,
Where hang at open doors the net and cork,
While squalid sea-dames mend the meshy work;
Till comes the hour when fishing through the tide
The weary husband throws his freight aside;
A living mass which now demands the wife,
Th' alternate labours of their humble life.
Can scenes like these withdraw thee from thy wood,
Thy upland forest, or thy valley's flood?
Seek then thy garden's shrubby bound, and look,
As it steals by, upon the bordering brook;
That winding streamlet, limpid, lingering slow,
Where the reeds whisper when the zephyrs blow;
Where in the midst, upon a throne of green,
Sits the large Lily as the water's queen;
And makes the current, forced awhile to stay,
Murmur and bubble as it shoots away;
Draw then the strongest contrast to that stream,
And our broad river will before thee seem.
With ceaseless motion comes and goes the tide,
Flowing, it fills the channel vast and wide;
Then back to sea, with strong majestic sweep
It rolls, in ebb yet terrible and deep;
Here Samphire-banks and Saltwort bound the flood,
There stakes and sea-weeds withering on the mud;
And higher up, a ridge of all things base,
Which some strong tide has roll'd upon the place.
Thy gentle river boasts its pigmy boat,
Urged on by pains, half-grounded, half afloat:
While at her stern an angler takes his stand,
And marks the fish he purposes to land;
From that clear space, where, in the cheerful ray
Of the warm sun, the scaly people play.

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Strange

Jason: D.C. 930. How many people from Virginia in here tonight?
Very cool, very cool. I grew up in Virginia.
This is the closest Ive ever played to home, so
this is very very groovy. Lets see what happens.
Strange because I believe it is my future
Staring back at me
With eyes so light
I never dreamed it could be
Anything else than what they could see
Oh, they are colors
That collide and scope
My heart belongs into
Magnificent ever-changing patterns do
Im wide awake at the wheel
Its oh so crazy because I can see
It could be my presence
So pleasantly deprived
Ive never seen the explained prophecies
Or anything else it should be
Oh they are troubled
And disguised behind wise eyes and wise crackin smiles
Hypnotized behind a panel
On a thirty hour drive
Im not at all what I seem
But my intentions are practical inventions
Forgot to mention Im insane by definition
Were taking pictures on the paper
No escape, the morning after I outride the wave
But all in all, its unlikely Ill succeed
Said, all in all, its unlikely
But all in all, its unlikely well succeed
All in all, I said, its unlikely
But all in all, its unlikely Ill succeed
Ive developed a lovely distaste for your heart on my sleeve, yeah
(scatting)
We keep it simple
Keep it clean
Keep repeating the words as often as you need
Oh, think, think
Blinks like a turning signal me to
Turn, turn away oh
From anything good, people say
Oh now, I will be selective, calm, cool and collective
And listening to the voice and its perspective
Hoping that the choices, appropriately respected
Are protecting me, are protecting me
Hey, hey, protecting me, protecting me
And I would like a little sugar in my coffee
I would like a little dream
And Id prefer another smoke before the morning

[...] Read more

song performed by Jason Mraz
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II

THE ARGUMENT

The Saints engage in fierce Contests
About their Carnal interests;
To share their sacrilegious Preys,
According to their Rates of Grace;
Their various Frenzies to reform,
When Cromwel left them in a Storm
Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble
Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal.

THE learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mungrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,
And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So e're the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant Capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry swarm its own.
For as the Persian Magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way;
So PRESBYTER begot the other
Upon the good old Cause, his mother,
Then bore then like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same.
And yet no nat'ral tie of blood
Nor int'rest for the common good
Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard.
For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd:
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they've none,
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunders to grow slack;
The Cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to b' out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the Brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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Krwlng (Mike Shinoda Feat. Aaron Lewis)

Crawling in my skin
Without a sense of confidence
Consuming, confusing
Crawling in my skin
Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that there's just too much prssure too take
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
[Aaron]
Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
[Chester]
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling
I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence Im convinced that theres just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure
[Aaron and Chester]
Crawling In my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflectionIt's haunting how I can't seem...
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence Im convinced that theres just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure
Without a sense of confidence i'm convinced that theres just too much pressure to take (2x)
Cant seem to find myself again my walls are closing in..
Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that theres just too much pressure to take
Ive felt this way before so insecure..
[Aaron and Chester]
Crawling In my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real (2x

song performed by Linkin Park
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Confidence | Words of Wisdom

Don’t mistake power for confidence
You’ll never never like how it ends
Take your stance and understand
Confidence is the greatest tool
Confidence is power that’s my first rule

Now weapons aren’t that sharp even from the start
But confidence is evident etched with in your brain
Confidence is sharper than any razor blade
Individuality is a packaged deal
You’ve got to trust yourself and know yourself for real

Now trying to control ain’t gonna work
Power is a tool that’s broke
Too much effort, too much mess,
Leaving a trail of broken heart and broken glass
So there’s my proof I say it with confidence

poem by Life in a Poem
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Tale XXI

The Learned Boy

An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and

hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Those Who Go To College

Those who go to college,
Should decide with a clear knowledge...
What it is,
They hope from it to get.

And those who go to college,
Should decide with a clear knowledge...
What it is,
They hope for them benefits.

So many drift in dreams,
Have no clue what it is they want.
But party just to congregate in hallways,
Just to flaunt...
A getting into college but afraid to polish up,
And succeed.

'Not me.'

Those who go to college,
Should decide with a clear knowledge...
What it is,
They hope from it to get.

And those who go to college,
Should decide with a clear knowledge...
What it is,
They hope for them benefits.

So many drift in dreams,
Have no clue what it is they want.
But party just to congregate in hallways,
Just to flaunt...
A getting into college but afraid to polish up,
And succeed.

'I got in college! '

But...
Are you there in college just to party,
Or to polish and succeed?

'I got in college! '

But...
Are you there in college just to party,
Or to polish and succeed?

Since many are in college,
Just to party and to get a degree.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Parties

Well this is my back yard
My back gate
I hate to start my parties late
Heres the party cart
Aint that great ?
That aint the best part baby
Just wait
Thats a genuine weathervane
It moves with the breeze
Portable hammock honey
Who needs trees
Its casual entertaining
We aim to please
At my parties
Check out the shingles
Its brand new
Excuse me while I mingle
Hi, how are you
Hey everybody
Let me give you a toast
This ones for me
The host with the most
Its getting a trifle colder
Step inside my home
Thats a brass toilet tissue holder with its own telephone
Thats musical doorbell
It dont ring, I aint kiddin
It plays america the beautiful and tie a yellow ribbon
Boy, this punch is a trip
Its o.k. in my book
Here, take a sip
Maybe little heaven on the fruit
Ah, here comes the dip
You may kiss the cook
Let me show you honey
Its easy - look
You take a fork and spire em
Say, did you try these ?
So glad you like em
The secrets in the cheese
Its casual entertaining
We aim to please
At my parties
Now dont talk to me about the polar bear
Dont talk to me about ozone layer
Aint so much of anything these days, even the air
Theyre running out of rhinos
What do I care ?
Lets hear it for the dolphin
Lets hear it for the trees

[...] Read more

song performed by Dire Straits
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Vicissitude V: Consistency in the Season

The penumbra of a nefarious moon
In the semblance of a harlequin's simper
Waning with the dark to topple
And give way to a braggart sun—
‘Twas a play of aeons and clockworks
In their perpetual and hallow realms
Dragging us, in favor and in sorrow
Of maiming vexations and perplexities:
Of a hidden yearning for abeyance

"Winter—comes the arctic sunder,
Spring—hails the jealous lover,
Summer—fan the flames, a fire to die,
Autumn—invokes the chars to fly"
How do we resign from vicissitude
And raise a fist from the mist
Of baneful soirees and feasts
Where we play the jester
The season mocks in great pleasure?

In this omnipresent attrition
Should we become the season?
Or hold steadfast to our convictions?
Is this bereavement? Is this a shaping?
Breaking and rebuilding, breaking and rebuilding—
Is it the only constant thing?
Shall I stop from building, shall I stop from breaking?
Is this a futile game: a feint of vicissitude?

poem by Norman Santos
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I'm Self-confident

With your self-confidence, you will succeed
No longer will your heart painfully bleed
As humans, we have our twists and turns
However, from these problems we always learn
Life has its own road and way
But you have your opinion, actions, and your say
Although life may bring you down
Don’t ever respond with a frown
Instead of giving up and letting go
Just cope with the problems and let them flow
In the end, a solution will be made
And no longer will fear and doubt be your shade
Perfection is a fictitious word you should never follow lead
If you seek perfection, you will never succeed
Just take a step at a time to regain your confidence again
However, along the path there will be pain
You will make mistakes along the way
But never let your faults forever stay
Wisdom will guide your every step
And will erase all the bad memoirs that you have long kept
You will regain your self-confidence bit by bit
The worse may happen but you mustn’t quit…

poem by Marria Attar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Be it a potted pant

One may draw confidence
From the robe or crown he wears.
One may draw confidence
From the skin he possesses.
One may boast with confidence
From the connection he has.

Confidence grows to pride,
Pride, to conceit and conceit,
To vanity or atrocity.
Be confidence a potted plant.
06.03.2012

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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