This Is Why I Work So Hard

A poem about my humble beginnings and how they fuel my work ethic.

Brian Kurian
Jun 6 · 2 min read
Image by PDPics from Pixabay

Let me take you back to where it all began
when I was a small Indian boy in Michigan
back to my roots on Ardmore street
in the dead of winter or during the summer heat.

You could usually find me playing with a neighborhood friend
Mom would tell me to be home by ten,
or when the street lights came on,
but until then I would be gone.

We never had much but we always had enough
thanks to my parents’ unconditional love
my sister and I got to live a decent life
I can’t help but reflect as I lay here with my wife.

Life was tough, that much I was sure
we weren’t dirt poor,
but by no means were we rich
I did whatever I needed to make a dollar, including digging a ditch.

Lemonade stands, manual labor, and chores for neighbors
I was the guy that you wanted to ask for a favor
because I had friends in various circles
No matter what the situation, I believed I could work miracles.

Humble beginnings created my work ethic
There are no shortcuts, there are no tricks.

Other poems of mine:

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Written by Brian Kurian, All Rights Reserved 2019

Journal of Journeys

Each of us are the narrators of our own unique stories, dramas and sagas. Journal of Journeys is a publication that takes pride in helping share those stories.

Brian Kurian

Written by

Writing & Marketing Coach, Blogger/Contributor for 15 Medium Publications. Email: brian.kurian@gmail.com

Journal of Journeys

Each of us are the narrators of our own unique stories, dramas and sagas. Journal of Journeys is a publication that takes pride in helping share those stories.