A little man there lived before my time,
Who tried,
And tried,
But failed.

Love for God and country filled his soul,
But he
began
To fail.

He wanted to begin his life anew,
But yet
We see
He failed.

He said he would do anything he could.
And still
It seems
He failed.

Until he saw that he must choose to fail,
And then
The man
Was lost.

What has he succeeded in,
If not in not succeeding?
His life has been malfunctioning.
This line he keeps repeating:
"I think I can, I think I can,"
But still the man cannot.
He's running off his railroad tracks;
The engine's getting hot.
Time slips away that once was his,
His dreams of victory
Seem little more than nightmares now,
A morbid fantasy.