Master of my Fate, Captain of my Soul

This is for a GROWN ASS OLD MAN who refuses to help himself. All of his friends have tried to be positive. Tried to guide him toward people that would help him understand that he is NOT BROKEN, but he sure loves to feel like he is. I know people battling ALS, a family who lost 2 of their children in a fire, cops who have been shot and killed on duty. He will never read this poem. He will never read this post, but perhaps this will help a person who stumbles on this poem and will give them the courage to understand it's about your attitude. 


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley