Ten thousand hours are foretold,

The perfection point a sight to behold.

When at once a skill can be sold,

And at last once can relax with their gold.

.

It feels so out of reach,

When I’d rather just lie on the beach.

Long sick of hearing to the speech.

I just want to taste the sweet peech.

.

So get on the grind,

Who knows what you’ll find.

Our dreams are clear, but the journey is blind.

All it takes is taking each step in time.