Hard Knocks
I have come to realise that I admire or appreciate people who work hard to get what they want, or to look the way they desire to look. They’re the ones who were perhaps, flipped with a bad stack of cards in life, and had refused to stick to their lot. They are the ones who would put up a fight, even if they were to fight till their knuckles are bruised, tattered and damaged. They’re real. And they’re bleeding from their lips. They grit their teeth, against harsh times, they do not tell and neither do they whine without a purpose. They’re used to hard knocks, and success tastes like hard pressed liquour to their lips.
