P
postman
With apologies to Kipling.
IF you can hold your trade when all about you
Are closing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when Samirs doubts you,
And make allowance for SD’s doubting too;
If you can post and not be tired by posting,
Or trading SPY’s all day, don't deal in SPY’s,
Or watching Bloomberg, where only fools are hosting,
They may look good, but they don’t talk too wise:
If you go long - and don’t make tops your master;
If you go short – and bottom picking’s not your game;
If you can meet with Barjon and Dick Lexic
And treat those two great drunkards just the same;
If you can bear to watch the trade you open
Stopped out by markets from the very start,
Or watch the savings you gave your life to, taken,
And stoop and build 'em up with just a chart:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of Aussie cross,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never tell Bustech about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To not believe that you are Long and Wrong,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If Oscar’s snake oil pitch can make you grin,
And Mr Topstep’s tweets aren’t double dutch,
And you post your charts and thoughts on Trade2Win,
If signals count with you, but none too much;
If you can front run the Fed’s monthly minutes,
With sixty seconds' worth of sweating done,
Yours is the Earth and all the gold that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Trader son!
Postman.
IF you can hold your trade when all about you
Are closing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when Samirs doubts you,
And make allowance for SD’s doubting too;
If you can post and not be tired by posting,
Or trading SPY’s all day, don't deal in SPY’s,
Or watching Bloomberg, where only fools are hosting,
They may look good, but they don’t talk too wise:
If you go long - and don’t make tops your master;
If you go short – and bottom picking’s not your game;
If you can meet with Barjon and Dick Lexic
And treat those two great drunkards just the same;
If you can bear to watch the trade you open
Stopped out by markets from the very start,
Or watch the savings you gave your life to, taken,
And stoop and build 'em up with just a chart:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of Aussie cross,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never tell Bustech about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To not believe that you are Long and Wrong,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If Oscar’s snake oil pitch can make you grin,
And Mr Topstep’s tweets aren’t double dutch,
And you post your charts and thoughts on Trade2Win,
If signals count with you, but none too much;
If you can front run the Fed’s monthly minutes,
With sixty seconds' worth of sweating done,
Yours is the Earth and all the gold that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Trader son!
Postman.
