You’ve got to want it to get it,

to burden yourself in a belief of suffering

that grinds bone against bone,

for an uphill walk to drag tired limbs

above the tempered downproach,

(you will always fall faster than you rise),

there have never been enough hours in the day,

and you have no right to complain

about the singular conditions of your terrible pain.

I’m saying:

buck up,

run until you can’t,

climb until the ledge is beneath you,

you’ve got to carve out the craven heart

and eat it on a platter with extra salt.