In pursuit of dreams, some call it madness, Yet ignoring possibilities is pure foolishness. What name for chasing shadows, mere pretend? And for boasting of deeds, which never met an end?
Without a try, how can one grasp what’s doable? When do you halt? When does the path become unsuitable? Persist, endeavor, for it’s an ongoing quest, In the journey of creation, we find our best.
In pursuit of status, we amass, Things we don’t need, a hollow mass. To impress those distant, we splurge and vie, Yet true worth blooms where authenticity lies.
