Failure an old friend

Posted on by A. Rinum in Poetry

Think of failure as a bitter herb
you had to drink to get to where you are
because without all these setbacks
you wouldn’t have come this far.

Don’t stress over losing
because this loss was only meant to fuel your desire
why do you look at the sky
when you were born to go higher?

So rub this filth
sinking through your bones
little pebbles can’t break you
because you’re made of stone.

Stop whining and stop complaining
and get back on your knees
you have oceans to sail and mountains to climb
so don’t you fucking give up on me!

Failure, an old friend
Poetry book: Curing My Venom

Read Lou’s review on Curing My Venom

Photo by Tom Swinnen from Pexels

Published by A. Rinum

I was born in Pakistan, and I moved to the US when I was four years old. From the rural villages of Pakistan to the buildings of New York. Come take a glimpse into my life.

14 thoughts on “Failure an old friend”

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