Up the blocks of such,
Or maybe down even,
Not with a care,
Than many other.
Of late,
Such nuances don't bother,
Not a bit,
For years to come,
It was time,
For us to raise it over,
The usual prayers.
Flights of glory,
Each to a new height,
Stepping and strodding,
Right to the top.
Many taken,
Many more,
A helping hand at every sight of trouble,
All is well that way,
But lately to try harder,
To be better
Making it to the top is the task,
Set upon to the path of treasure.