Festering Wounds

Starting may be fun, but finishing’s the future
For how else might a deep wound heal, without adequate suture?
Sure it may be morbid, to compare endeavor to a wound
But surely you’ll see why, and I’ll be sure that happens soon

There comes a time when thinking men, or women for that matter
Compares himself to history, and men she came whereafter
One may look upon Pieta, of Michelangelo
“A lifetime of mast’ry it took,” but he was quite young though

For upon it’s completion, he was only twenty-four,
And likewise with his David, t’was done in 5 years more
Two of the greatest works, in the world of artistry,
Were completed by this great man, before he turned thirty

The world had man-y great men, of whom you’re likely older
than they were at the time of doing, great deeds man-y times over
Of course it’s not in all of us, to be as great as they once were
But I hope this will encourage you, for this to be your spur

For some it comes quite easy, and others it’s quite hard
But please do not much worry, it’s not your fault you’re scarred
Certain men are born complete, they know what they must do
Others have to find themselves, but they’ll find their way through

“Time heals all wounds” they say, though truth is quite contrary
For as your hands sit idle, they grow wounds you now must carry
These wounds cannot be seen, nor can they be heard
For they are the regret we feel, for wasting our free third

These wounds that form they can be healed, with appropriate technique
You simply must work upon, an endeavor quite unique
Every goal you reach, is like a suture stitch
You must prepare your mind, since this hurts like a bitch

As you delve into a skill, you’re overcome with pain
Every minor set-back, can make tears flow like rain
As the needle enters skin, you question what it’s for
But if persistent you are, you’ll be better than before

For what is a man, but the culmination of
The deeds he’s done in life, the things done out of love
If you have no passion, if you have no drive
People will sense your wounds, you’ll hardly seem alive

The pain is finally over, the stitching is now done
Before you lies the fruit you yield, from the battle that you’ve won
Time leaves us disfigured, more ugly every year
But if you did a good job stitching, your scar may disappear

Haimothli