Everyone slips,
goes on mind trips,
experiences loose lips,
sat on behind hips.
At times we all flip,
lose our grip,
react too fast zip,
end up on a blip,
almost sink with
the ship.

Let he without sin,
pitch a rock from the den.
Then again,
some don't acknowledge their sin.
These type will stone,
pick a bone,
act like they're a world alone.
No one else counts,
in their totality amounts.

Slipping face down,
I pick myself off the ground.
Stumble back tripping,
again back flipping.
I know about getting up,
a mind going corrupt.

I know more about being stuck,
tripping on bad luck.
Smacked down again struck.

Knowing all the above,
forced me to adorn my boxing glove.
Fight my way back,
after lifes big attack.
I'm still rumbling,
at times stumbling,
but I put up a tough fight,
this is any persons right,
as life shadows its might.

G