“I fight a battle every day against discouragement and fear. Some folk stands always in my way. The path is never clear. I must forever be on guard against the doubts that skok along. I get ahead by fighting hard, but fighting keeps my spirit strong. I hear the croaking of despair, the dark predictions of the week.

I find myself pursued by care no matter what end I seek. My victories are small and few it matters not how hard I. Each day, the fight begins anew. But fighting keeps my hopes alive. My dreams are spoiled by circumstance. My plans are wrecked by fate or luck somehow, perhaps will bring my chance. But that great hour has never struck.

My progress has been slow and hard. I've had to climb and crawl and swim, fighting for every stubborn yard, but I've kept in fighting. I have to fight my doubts away and be on guard against my fears. The feeble croaking of dismay has been familiar through the years. My dearest plans to keep going. Wrong events combined to thwart my will, but fighting keeps my spirit strong and I'm undefeated still.”