This journey has been challenging,
There’s no denying it.
All the obstacles keep coming,
Each with a different fit.

The first obstacle I came across
Seemed like nothing to me,
But the next one I met upon
Just started one long stream.

Let’s say the stream is a river,
And the obstacles would be rocks,
The further I go, the more balance I’d lose,
Because I’d start to feel like a block.

The first rock I stepped on
Was unnaturally straight and dry,
But the next rock I placed my feet on
Was so uneven, I didn’t bother to try.

It was like that for all the rocks-
Each one more jagged than the last.
I kept slipping and falling and tripping
That I thought that I might crack.

But there’s always been this voice in my head-
A voice that kept cheering me on.
‘You can’t give up yet! There’re still miles to go
Before you’ll actually fall.’

The voice would say other things too, like:
‘Look at your roster- all the things you must do!
If you give up, remember the people counting on you!’

‘Get back up again – remember those wise words?
Mom used to shout them after you fell chasing the birds.’

‘And remember that dad used to say really strange things? Like the sky is your limit, so stretch out your wings?’

‘And then you’d smile and give them a thumbs-up,
But inside, you were like ‘Is this quoting-in-a-cup?’

Oh, that beautiful voice-
It really got me sometimes,
With all the motivation
And singsong rhymes.

But sometimes I wonder-
Is what it’s saying true?
Could there really be a chance
For me to colour my skies blue?

If I fall, shouldn’t I cry?
Shouldn’t I weep and pout and sigh?

Getting back up again
Could be really hard work,
So, shouldn’t I just stay down there
And let my problems go berserk?

Why is the sky my limit,
When I can go into space?
Why should I stretch out my wings,
When I could stretch out my pace?

Hold on a second.
Was that a spark right there?
Did I just elaborate on the fact
That I can really start a flare?

Is it really that simple?
To get back up after I fall?
Because I never knew
I could be strong like them all.

I’m being honest right here,
And this actually feels great.
Getting back up again
Got me from rock seven to rock eight.

Next time I get up,
I’ll be jumping to rock nine.
And maybe, If I keep this up,
I’ll be on rock ten in no time!

So, just a mental note
To awesome future me:
After you fall, just remember
To get back up on the count of three!

About the Poet 

Nashwa is a Grade 8 student from Diyafah International School

She is 13 years old, and is from Indonesia. She love drawing, sketching, painting, and pretty much anything else related to art. She also love playing sports, especially football and basketball; and when she grows up, she would like to be an architect.

She finds poetry wonderful – mainly because some poems, even really short ones, can have deep meanings. Her favorite poems are the ones that use a lot of metaphors because they put images in her head that make it easier to understand the meaning behind the words.