So that each masterpiece they create, can hold its own ground

So that each masterpiece they create, can hold its own ground

So that each masterpiece they create, can hold its own ground

The child is born, knows not to be what, he was born
He knows not, weather in a flower he will blossom or be called a thorn

Will his destiny he fulfill
Or will the man made circumstances, the genius in him kill

The sculpture of God, is hidden inside every rock
Depends on the sculptor, weather he sees the hidden beauty or plain rock

So the fault or beauty is not in the child, just like the rock
It is the parents like the sculptor, who slowly chisel out the unwanted and not break it with a big shock

With some inherent and specific qualities all rocks are found
It’s the duty of the parent, like the sculptor to create a master piece so profound

Bless all parents o Lord, to be the best sculptors around
So that each masterpiece they create, can hold its own ground

The duty of the sculptor is to do his best,
Only than the masterpiece thus created will stand out of the rest

The Unicorn

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