Time

An unfinished book, stopped mid-word,

A wooden carving a half-formed bird,

A song half-sung and forgotten,

A painting with unfinished fields of cotton.

These are the works of no motivations.

All once dearly beloved creations,

but then left in the end, half done.

In the beginning they were strong and fun,

but in the end thought of with contempt.

As if it all had been dreamt.

Oh, but what is commonly thought

of one who ne’er in his life fought

to do what he knows must be done

The battle to fight, the race to run?

Shall we with awe think of him

who ne’er finishes what he starts on a whim?

Oh, but let our creed forever be

to fight to the end, so all may see

A book finished, strong to the conclusion,

A wooden bird, so real as to be an illusion,

A song sung so beautifully, flowing to the end,

a painting so sweet, and to bewitching to lend.

So all may see and all may know

they worked on, and see what they show?

Dreams and wishes worth fighting for

A love and Ambition worth the struggles of war.

-Julie Keller

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