Where Greatness Grows

Greatness doesn’t stem from comfortable places      
or the pockets of someone else’s dream        
it grows out of the grime of a hard days work      
from those cold morns and bloody noses        
Perfection is dirty and worn        
with a smell that lingers, sticking to your fingers        
burning on your soul      
       
Success can’t be measured in titles, fame nor money        
it’s looking in the mirror each day      
knowing you gave it everything      
no excuses, no regrets      
that’s what success looks like      
       
As for glory; that fickle bitch isn’t real      
never will be      
pain  however is, and sacrifice        
embrace them for they will know you well      
Relish the task, the test, the struggle        
seek out defeat, then beat it      
       
There are no short cuts        
no easy paths to greatness        
One day if you’re lucky        
you will emerge from the trees      
knee deep in shit, battered and bruised        
standing at the top of the mountain        
not quite sure how you got there      
       
When you do      
tell me how the view is      
then continue        
on that champions road