Once our image cracks and begins to unravel,
Punched in the face by reality,
We begin to understand that,
Substance is not wished or imagined,
It is created by will and work.
There are no wonderful people born,
No talent or luck or magic,
Only people that more than others,
Longer than others or smarter than others,
Suffer the pain.

We often mistake the image that we want to achieve,
With what we are now, no there is work to be done,
Get that cracked mold that holds you back and,
Begin to transform yourself into something of value.
The value of being one of the few that can sustain pain,
The one that others cheer because they know,
Because they feel drawn to your power,
Because you conquered the tallest peak,
Of the tallest mountain,
And you are there to show them the way.

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