Passion and toil

He sweats as he recollects,
The time he spent for vain duties,
The value those forgone carried,
Impossible to take back.

All hopes he had for future,
Now seems so blurred,
As those dreams had not,
turned out to be realities.

Trivial hours dedicated to others,
Over the fear to be laughed at,
To escape from the trap of,
falling in to pit of failure.

In the end, could he measure the gains,
He acted upon words of others,
Not merely for the sake of his instinct,
Nothing to fill the void in his heart.

Image Credits – https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwikoYq74tbkAhVWaCsKHaYDDkwQjRx6BAgBEAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjoevandello.wordpress.com%2F2012%2F06%2F15%2Fmen-at-work%2F&psig=AOvVaw37Jk-EUwNTiU3z2j1sWsF4&ust=1568772297780114

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