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The breakfast of champions is not cereal, it's the opposition.

quote by Nick Seitz
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Milky Cereal

Ooh yeah
Mh
Hey yo, man
Ain't nothin like a nice bowl of cornflakes in the morning
to smooth you out
Milky
Cereal
(Baby)
Milky
Cereal (2x)
[ VERSE 1 ]
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who's the baddest female of them all?
It was Frosted Flake, she loved to bowl
And although her skin was white she had a lot of soul
Rich female, very debonnaire
Drivin a Rolls with rollers in her hair
We was hangin out, pumpin the stereo
She took me to a club, I think the name was Cheerio's
She walked like she was jumpin a hurdle
I was happy as a kid that just saw _Mutant Ninja Turtles_
A guy walked over, said, "Your earring's cute"
I said, "I'm wearin a earring, but it ain't no Fruit Loop"
Me and Frosted went to get a drink
But she ordered somethin bugged and I ain't know what to think
She ordered potassium, calcium
Carbohydrate scotch with sodium
She took me to her crib, threw me on the couch
I woke up the next morning with a spoon in my mouth
She's
Milky
Cereal
(Baby)
Milky
Cereal (4x)
[ VERSE 2 ]
I went to Vegas, didn't think it'd do any harm
I walked into this girl named Lucky Charm
For some reason we walked in the rain
She had a four-leaf clover with a big gold chain
She had a salary that was full of calories, for real
And I was in the mood for a homecooked meal
So we went to be alone
But we had to be quiet, cause her cornpops was home
Kissed her neck, kissed her back, kissed her arms
I said, "Forget it, let me see your lucky charms"
When we began her hairstyle was neat
But when I left the next morning it looked like shredded wheat
Talked about marriage, I said, "That's risky
Besides, it's such a waste of Rice Crispies"

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
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We Are The Champions (feat. Anastacia And Cast)

I've paid my dues
Time after time
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I've come through
We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'cause we are the champions -
of the world
I've taken my bows
And my curtain calls
You brought me fame and fortune
and everything that goes with it -
I thank you all
But it's been no bed of roses
No pleasure cruise
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race
and I ain't gonna lose
We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'cause we are the champions -
of the world
We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'cause we are the champions

song performed by Queen
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God's Little Champions

We know there's victory in Jesus
Our strength is trusting in Him
Nations will stand and glorify the Lord
All God's children, always win
We are all God's little champions
There's power in Him even if we fall
We are all God's little champions
The Cross is there for us all

**CHORUS**
We carry the torch of truth
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part

Across the finish line to Heaven
It doesn't matter to Him the score
For in Him there is true Victory
Eternal life forever more
We are all God's little champions
There's power in Him even if we fall
We are all God's little champions
The Cross is there for us all

We carry the torch of truth
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part

We carry the torch of truth
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part

We are all God's little champions
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part

(c) 1996 Words & Music - Gene Gamble /Two-G's Music
Key of C
Chord rotation - C - F - G (fill chord Bb for return) 4/4 moderate pace

poem by Gene Gamble
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Just For Fun

Cartoons
Just for fun
Just sitting around doing nothing
Having no worries, no responsibilities
No school
Just cartoons
And sugar cereal
Just cartoons
And more sugar cereal with extra sugar on it
Just cartoons
And more sugar cereal with extra sugar on it
It is fun to be a kid when you can be a kid
And when no one is watching, you put even four sugars on your sugar cereal
Or you just scoop up a few spoons of sugar into your mouth and love the way it melts in your mouth, just for fun
And when no one is watching you jump on the couch and the bed and you run through the house and you knock things over and you don’t pick them up because you are kid and you are just having fun
And you laugh and you giggle and you dance funny dances
You watch more cartoons
Eat more sugar cereal and dig through the box for the toy
And take more spoons of sugar
While watching cartoons
Just for fun.

poem by Connie Webb
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In Spite of Opposition

If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!

In spite of oppostion,
Of those who say he lacks experience.
Although he shows qualities,
They themselves have not yet shown.
He is a man of color...
And that they regret.
They rather show images of those of color...
As children needing diapers changed,
Because they are still 'wet'!
And they want this known.

If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!

And he represents a time...
In which people in the right minds,
Seek an updated image...
Of what others rather see,
Enforcibly diminished!
But a darkness lifts...
To allow those to see,
Truth in reality they can believe.

In spite of opposition...
Conflicts existing,
Seem pointless to keep inflicting.
And the greed of it...
Reveals the minds of those sick,
Who insist to feast upon their wickedness to feed.

And in spite of opposition,
He proves he is the best choice to select...
And to lead.
Whatever he lacks...
He still over his opposition succeeds.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Humanity Silenced

Freed to parade ideals and charade.
As an attack is made,
To dismantle and fade its greatness.
They babble on in divisions!
As intentional conflicts,
Chip away common sense.
While an intensified diminishing,
Orchestrates an ending to their existence.

Entertwined to find themselves,
Warring to explore a lost greed.
They fight to succeed in victory.
But none comes to them...
In a blindness fed.
As they curse the living...
To praise those dead!
Recruited to bleed.
In steps that lead...
Humanity silenced!
With all mechanisms,
Successfully in place.

'We are the champions,
My friends.
We must keep fighting,
To the end.
We are the champions!
WE ARE The CHAMPIONS.
No time for losers...
Cause we are the champions,
Of the World! '

So sings...
Queen.

Note:
'We Are The Champions'
Performed by Queen
British rock band.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Making Breakfast - a study in consciousness

Breakfast. Slick operation. You could
make it in your sleep..
you’ve refined the quantities,
the cooking and the timing
like a pro..

and eating it – you’re even more
brilliant at that – you can
eat breakfast, read the paper,
listen to the radio or tv,
half listen to the wife and kids,
make and take those cellphone calls;
then bestow a salty bacon,
sweet marmaladey kiss on several lips
or cheeks – and off..

But today something gotten to you:
the sun is shining; all’s well with the world;
this isn’t Monday breakfast, this is
Saturday breakfast…

You find yourself making breakfast
as if you’d never made it in your life before;
you hear the cereal on its way
from the packet to the bowl;
smell the coffee before drinking it;
never has the toast been browner, crisper,
eggs more eggy, tomatoes so.. well, tomatoey;
sweet meeting salt in tasting mouth..
the world’s made new today; and
somehow, you feel as if
you know that much more about yourself;
some sure sense of direction
seems to fill your heart and mind;
you’re on good terms with
the Creation as of now.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Robin Hood and the Prince of Aragon

NOW Robin Hood, Will Scadlock and Little John
Are walking over the plain,
With a good fat buck which Will Scadlock
With his strong bow had slain.

`Jog on, jog on,' cries Robin Hood,
`The day it runs full fast;
For though my nephew me a breakfast gave,
I have not yet broke my fast.

`Then to yonder lodge let us take our way,
I think it wondrous good,
Where my nephew by my bold yeomen
Shall be welcomd unto the green wood.'

With that he took the bugle-horn,
Full well he could it blow;
Streight from the woods came marching down
One hundred tall fellows and mo.

`Stand, stand to your arms!' crys Will Scadlock,
`Lo! the enemies are within ken:'
With that Robin Hood he laughd aloud,
Crys, They are my bold yeomen.

Who, when they arriv'd and Robin espy'd,
Cry'd, Master, what is your will?
We thought you had in danger been,
Your horn did sound so shrill.

`Now nay, now nay,' quoth Robin Hood,
`The danger is past and gone;
I would have you to welcome my nephew here,
That hath paid me two for one.'

In feasting and sporting they passed the day,
Till Phoebus sunk into the deep;
Then each one to his quarters hy'd,
His guard there for to keep.

Long had they not walked within the green wood,
But Robin he was espy'd
Of a beautiful damsel all alone,
That on a black palfrey did ride.

Her riding-suit was of sable hew black,
Sypress over her face,
Through which her rose-like cheeks did blush,
All with a comely grace.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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The Opposition aren't really the Opposition. They're just called the Opposition. But in fact they are the Opposition in exile. The Civil Service are the Opposition in residence.

quote by Antony Jay
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Breakfast In Bed

(eddie hinton / donnie fritts)
Youve been cryin
Your face is a mess
Come in baby
You can dry the tears on my dress
Shes hurt you again
I can tell
Oh, I know that look so well
Dont be shy
Youve been here before
Pull your shoes off, lie down
And I will lock the door
And no-one has to know
Youve come here again
Darling it will be
Like its always been before
Come on over here
Breakfast in bed
And a kiss or three
You dont have to say you love me
Breakfast in bed
Nothing need be said
Aint no need
Whats your hurry?
Please dont eat and run
You can let her wait, my darling
Its been so long
Since Ive had you here
You will come again
Darling it will be
Like its always been before
Hey child
Breakfast in bed
And a kiss or three
You dont have to say you love me
Breakfast in bed
Nothing need be said
Breakfast in bed
And a kiss or three
You dont have to say you love me
Breakfast in bed
Nothing need be said, yeah
You dont have to

song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Summer '79

Our last day of summer, 1979.
Gotta live it up one time before it's over.
We will make history tonight.
Out at the drive-in
all of our closest friends will be sneaking in.
You'll be spending your whole night
trying everything you can to get that girl to notice you.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
Down at the roller rink
all the cool kids crowding around the air-hockey table.
"Hey, my best friend likes you!"
I hear you shout at me as you go skating by.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
Sneak out of your window darling.
Let's live like outlaws honey.
We'll never look back.
Climb out on this rooftop.
And stare at the city lights below us.
This world belongs to us tonight.
The kids will keep raging on and they ain't ever gonna stop.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
pu the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.

song performed by Ataris
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One More Kiss

(part one)
At sunset you hear the soft parade is coming
And the cars and the beast behind, they all start humming
And ooh you got a cool machine, so let's get it runnin'
We'll break the silence of the night and you know they're gonna hear us comin'
We always see them whisper, we know they're gonna talk
They fantasize the mysteries 'bout the night and the dark
So baby one more kiss, baby one more kiss, we never have to say goodbye
Oh one more kiss, baby one more kiss, it brings a little luck to the night
Artists got their easels, they're ready on the mark
Gonna try and take the pictures of the dust and the gold in the sparks
And ooh you got a cool machine, baby let's get it runnin'
You never looked so good before and you know your time it's finally comin'
'cause our home is the wind, you know we're gods of the mornin'
Champions of the night, when the engines are rumblin'
Our home is the wind, you know we're gods of the mornin'
Champions of the night, when the engines are rumblin'
So just one more kiss, baby one more kiss, we never have to say goodbye
One more kiss, baby one more kiss, i never wanna see you cry
One more kiss, baby one more kiss, it brings a little luck to the night
One more kiss, baby one more kiss, we never have to say goodbye
(part two)
(ready, ready to roll, ready, ready to roll, ready, ready to roll, ready)
Under my foot gonna hit it down, take this stance before the crowd
Sleepin' city urban fall, summer's sadness time to answer the call
(cool machine, get it runnin', ready to roll)
Soft hands around my neck, one more kiss then it's time to connect
Leave this child, leave me all alone, this one's mine and i'm takin' it home
(ready, ready, ready to roll)
This one's mine and i'm takin' it home
(part three)
Now behind closed walls new histories start to rise
Of the soft parade and the heroes where they lie
And ooh you got a cool machine, baby let's get it runnin'
You never looked so good before and you know your time it's finally comin'
'cause our home is the wind, you know we're gods of the mornin'
Champions of the night, when the engines are rumblin'
Our home is the wind, you know we're gods of the mornin'
Champions of the night, when the engines are rumblin'
(one more kiss, one more kiss, one more kiss, one more kiss)
(one more kiss, one more kiss)
It brings a little luck, brings a little luck to the night
(one more kiss, one more kiss)
Ooh one more kiss
One more kiss, baby one more kiss, we never have to say goodbye
And ooh you got a cool machine, baby let's get it runnin'

song performed by Meat Loaf
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Serena And Venice (The Williams Sisters)

Rare and unique,
Are these two champions.
Serena and Venice,
Blood sisters of tennis.
Sacrificing and climbing new heights.

For the past eleven years,
They've appeared at Wimbledon.
And sharing nine titles between them.
To become among the elite,
Of true champions of an amazing fête.

Substance has been the foundation of their success.
Focus and dedication,
With determination to be the best has been stressed.
And desire sets their court game on fire.
What an inspiration to admire that inspires.

For the past eleven years,
They've appeared at Wimbledon.
And sharing nine titles between them.
To become among the elite,
Of true champions of an amazing fête.

Rare and unique,
Are these two champions.
Serena and Venice,
Blood sisters of tennis.
Sacrificing and climbing new heights.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Orlando Furioso Canto 19

ARGUMENT
Medoro, by Angelica's quaint hand,
Is healed, and weds, and bears her to Catay.
At length Marphisa, with the chosen band,
After long suffering, makes Laiazzi's bay.
Guido the savage, bondsman in the land,
Which impious women rule with civil sway,
With Marphisa strives in single fight,
And lodges her and hers at full of night.

I
By whom he is beloved can no one know,
Who on the top of Fortune's wheel is seated;
Since he, by true and faithless friends, with show
Of equal faith, in glad estate is greeted.
But, should felicity be changed to woe,
The flattering multitude is turned and fleeted!
While he who loves his master from his heart,
Even after death performs his faithful part.

II
Were the heart seen as is the outward cheer,
He who at court is held in sovereign grace,
And he that to his lord is little dear,
With parts reversed, would fill each other's place;
The humble man the greater would appear,
And he, now first, be hindmost in the race.
But be Medoro's faithful story said,
The youth who loved his lord, alive or dead.

III
The closest path, amid the forest gray,
To save himself, pursued the youth forlorn;
But all his schemes were marred by the delay
Of that sore weight upon his shoulders born.
The place he knew not, and mistook the way,
And hid himself again in sheltering thorn.
Secure and distant was his mate, that through
The greenwood shade with lighter shoulders flew.

IV
So far was Cloridan advanced before,
He heard the boy no longer in the wind;
But when he marked the absence of Medore,
It seemed as if his heart was left behind.
'Ah! how was I so negligent,' (the Moor
Exclaimed) 'so far beside myself, and blind,
That I, Medoro, should without thee fare,
Nor know when I deserted thee or where?'

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Orlando Furioso Canto 20

ARGUMENT
Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,
While all Astolpho chases with his horn,
Who to all quarters of the town sets fire,
Then roving singly round the world is borne.
Marphisa, for Gabrina's cause, in ire
Puts upon young Zerbino scathe and scorn,
And makes him guardian of Gabrina fell,
From whom he first learns news of Isabel.

I
Great fears the women of antiquity
In arms and hallowed arts as well have done,
And of their worthy works the memory
And lustre through this ample world has shone.
Praised is Camilla, with Harpalice,
For the fair course which they in battle run.
Corinna and Sappho, famous for their lore,
Shine two illustrious light, to set no more.

II
Women have reached the pinnacle of glory,
In every art by them professed, well seen;
And whosoever turns the leaf of story,
Finds record of them, neither dim nor mean.
The evil influence will be transitory,
If long deprived of such the world had been;
And envious men, and those that never knew
Their worth, have haply hid their honours due.

III
To me it plainly seems, in this our age
Of women such is the celebrity,
That it may furnish matter to the page,
Whence this dispersed to future years shall be;
And you, ye evil tongues which foully rage,
Be tied to your eternal infamy,
And women's praises so resplendent show,
They shall, by much, Marphisa's worth outgo.

IV
To her returning yet again; the dame
To him who showed to her such courteous lore,
Refused not to disclose her martial name,
Since he agreed to tell the style be bore.
She quickly satisfied the warrior's claim;
To learn his title she desired so sore.
'I am Marphisa,' the virago cried:
All else was known, as bruited far and wide.

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 12

WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quell’d,
Himself become the mark of public spite,
His honor question’d for the promis’d fight;
The more he was with vulgar hate oppress’d, 5
The more his fury boil’d within his breast:
He rous’d his vigor for the last debate,
And rais’d his haughty soul to meet his fate.
As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase,
He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; 10
But, if the pointed jav’lin pierce his side,
The lordly beast returns with double pride:
He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain;
His sides he lashes, and erects his mane:
So Turnus fares; his eyeballs flash with fire, 15
Thro’ his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire.
Trembling with rage, around the court he ran,
At length approach’d the king, and thus began:
“No more excuses or delays: I stand
In arms prepar’d to combat, hand to hand, 20
This base deserter of his native land.
The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take
The same conditions which himself did make.
Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare,
And to my single virtue trust the war. 25
The Latians unconcern’d shall see the fight;
This arm unaided shall assert your right:
Then, if my prostrate body press the plain,
To him the crown and beauteous bride remain.”
To whom the king sedately thus replied: 30
“Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried,
The more becomes it us, with due respect,
To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect.
You want not wealth, or a successive throne,
Or cities which your arms have made your own: 35
My towns and treasures are at your command,
And stor’d with blooming beauties is my land;
Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees,
Unmarried, fair, of noble families.
Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, 40
Things which perhaps may grate a lover’s ear,
But sound advice, proceeding from a heart
Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.
The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown,
No prince Italian born should heir my throne: 45
Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill’d,
And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal’d.
Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood,
Brib’d by my kindness to my kindred blood,
Urg’d by my wife, who would not be denied, 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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The Bridal Of Triermain

Introduction.
I.
Come Lucy! while 'tis morning hour
The woodland brook we needs must pass;
So, ere the sun assume his power,
We shelter in our poplar bower,
Where dew lies long upon the flower,
Though vanish'd from the velvet grass.
Curbing the stream, this stony ridge
May serve us for a silvan bridge;
For here, compell'd to disunite,
Round petty isles the runnels glide,
And chafing off their puny spite,
The shallows murmurers waste their might,
Yielding to footstep free and light
A dry-shod pass from side to side.

II.
Nay, why this hesitating pause?
And, Lucy, as thy step withdraws,
Why sidelong eye the streamlet's brim?
Titania's foot without a slip,
Like, thine, though timid, light, and slim,
From stone to stone might safely trip,
Nor risk the glow-worm clasp to dip
That binds her slipper's silken rim.
Or trust thy lover's strength; nor fear
That this same stalwart arm of mine,
Which could yon oak's prone trunk uprear,
Shall shrink beneath, the burden dear
Of form so slender, light, and fine;
So! now, the danger dared at last,
Look back, and smile at perils past!

III.
And now we reach the favourite glade,
Paled in copsewood, cliff, and stone,
Where never harsher sounds invade,
To break affection's whispering tone,
Than the deep breeze that waves the shade,
Than the small brooklet's feeble moan.
Come! rest thee on thy wonted seat;
Moss'd is the stone, the turf is green,
A place where lovers best may meet
Who would not that their love be seen.
The boughs, that dim the summer sky,
Shall hide us from each lurking spy,
That fain would spread the invidious tale,
How Lucy of the lofty eye,
Noble in birth, in fortunes high,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Ballade Of The Breakfast Table

When the Festal Board, as the papers say,
Groans 'neath the weight of a lot to eat,
At breakfast, Fruhstuck or dejeuner,
(As a bard tri-lingual I'm rather neat)
At breakfast, then, if I may repeat,
This is what gets me into a huff,
This is a query I cannot beat:
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?

I've broken my fast with the grave and gay,
With hoi polloi and with the elite;
I've been all over the U. S. A.
From Dorchester Crossing to Kearney Street.
But aye when I sit in the morning seat
Comes to my notice the self-same bluff,
Plenty of food, but in this they cheat:
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?

Take it at breakfast, only to-day:
This was the layout, fresh and sweet:
Canteloupe, sweet as the new-mown hay; [Footnote: And about as edible.]
Cereal-one of the brands[Footnote: To advertisers: This space for sale.]
of wheat;
Soft-boiled eggs (we've cut out the meat) :
Coffee (a claro-manila-buff) :
Napery, china, and glasses complete-
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?

L'ENVOI

Autocratesses, forgive my heat,
But isn't it time to change that stuff?
Small is the benison I entreat-
Why don't they ever have spoons enough?

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Few Are Champions

I make mistakes and need to be challenged.
But few are champions I seek to feed my thoughts,
Wishing to become ambitioned by their left impressions.

Few are champions.
And those steps made I take,
Are often criticized for the appetite displayed.
Leaving me to miss,
An atmosphere motivated...
By this kind of companionship.

Few are champions,
In an atmosphere motivation mostly sits.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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