PREVIOUS TENANTS
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Yet, said Roosevelt,
'It is not the critic who counts';
I count.
I sing, I stumble, I salt, I stick
Not because I am incompetent
Not because I am not brave or because I am an unskilful knave,
But because I am the woman in the arena,
And what more should be expected from a ring of obstacles,
But for the encounter of a common hurdle
And the common stumble?
I count,
Said Teddy,
My face is 'marred by dust and sweat and blood'
I err
I come short again and again.
Renovation is tantamount to regenerative destruction;
When my foundations shake, my psyche aches
And the walls crumble bit by bit,
It is my duty as the one in the arena to make the best of it.
Even to fail while daring greatly, is a feat of valiance if you ask me.
And do you know who'd agree?
Teddy.
Said he,
That my 'place shall never be
with those cold & timid souls who neither know defeat or victory'.
It matters not so much how many depths I drowned
Or dank valleys I traversed,
Let's speak about the mountain steeples
And the breathtaking views first.