It is that which drives me
It is not hardheadedness
Although it has been called such
It is, rather, a stick-to-it-ness
That guides me to never give up
A dogged determined outlook
Which tells me not to stop
Because ultimately all will be okay

Was not this summer
the chance to gather up the grapes ?
Instead they turned their heads ,
steadfast in the folly spewing out their hate
The fall has come
and the grain rots
upon the stems of life
For the truth inside
the seed has been discarded
for the lies that leads to strife
Let them taste the bitterness
of wormwood and gall
Instead of the rejuvenation
There's winter cold recall