poem

An old man…

An old man, travelling a lonely highway,Came at the evening, cold and gray,

To a chasm deep and wide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim,

For the sullen stream had no fear for him.

But he turned when he reached the other side,

And builded a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man”, cried a fellow pilgrim near,

Your are wasting your strength with building here.

Your journey will end with the ending day,

And you never again will pass this way.

You have crossed the chasm deep and wide.

Why build you a bridge at even tide?

And the builder raised his old grey head:

“Good friend, on the path I have come”, he said,

There followeth after me today

A youth whose feet must pass this way.

This stream which has been naught to me,

To that fair-haired boy may a pit fall be.

He,too, must cross in the twilight dim.

“Good friend, I am building this bridge for him”

This poem is from Napoleon Hill’s book found it too inspirational so thought to share it 

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