10,000 Hours

Void divulging, spilling out, fall to the floor, swept away

They affect no one, change nothing, inspire zero. It’s not really them that’s there today

Because, after all, what you want, you probably won’t get

This is how your 10,000 hours will forever be spent

You see, not all of our worlds spin in the same fashion

Some worlds operate within a stationary box. No drive, no imagination, or passion

Tomorrow’s greats are already out there, forming their craft, making their names

While we are bound to the simple, monotonous, and to those making their barren claims

Brief stretches appear where one can fill that cavern of fervor

But it’s not long before… “Sorry for interrupting. Until next time.” Then, they’ll take it even further

Find your drive, dive into your imagination, gain that passion and use it to do extraordinary things

Capture all your means and use them as springs

Someone’s bound to listen. Listen. Listen to the aching cries of the potential

For their throats are sore and those 10,000 hours, my friends, are nothing but essential

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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