2024 excuses are monuments of nothingness poem

2024 excuses are monuments of nothingness poem Obscuring the path to progress, making it difficult to see what's right. Excuses are the crutches of the weak, the shields of the timid and the vain, The refuge of the lazy, the solace of the ones who choose to refrain. They are the whispers of the coward, the cries of the ones who won't dare, The excuses are the echoes of the empty, the sound of nothingness in the air. Excuses are the tombstones of opportunity, the markers of the roads not taken, The gravestones of the dreams that died, the silent witnesses of the battles forsaken. They are the relics of the past, the remnants of the fears that once held us captive, The reminders of the times we chose to rest, instead of being active.

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Excuses are the monuments of mediocrity, the symbols of the unwillingness to strive, The emblems of the inability to rise, the signs of the spirit that's not alive. They are the markers of the journey half-done, the evidence of the progress half-made, The proof of the potential unfulfilled, the tokens of the dreams un-faded. Excuses are the monuments of nothingness, erected in the vacant lots of the mind, Built with bricks of falsehood, mortared with the cement of fear and blind. But the winds of change will blow, and the sands of time will shift, And the monuments of nothingness will crumble, and the truth will lift. And the monuments of nothingness will crumble, and the truth will lift. Excuses are monuments of nothingness, but the truth will always shine, Breaking through the shadows, illuminating the path, and defining the line. So let us tear down the monuments, and build a bridge to the future instead, A bridge of truth, a bridge of courage, a bridge to tread. Excuses are monuments of nothingness, but the truth will always be, The beacon of hope, the guiding star, the key to set us free.

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The beacon of hope, the guiding star, the key to set us free. So let us break down the monuments, and embrace the truth with all our might, And watch as the shadows of nothingness fade away with the light. Excuses are monuments of nothingness, erected in the vacant lots of the mind, Built with bricks of falsehood, mortared with the cement of fear and blind. They rise so high, these monuments, casting shadows over truth and light, Obscuring the path to progress, making it difficult to see what's right. Excuses are the crutches of the weak, the shields of the timid and the vain, The refuge of the lazy, the solace of the ones who choose to refrain. They are the whispers of the coward, the cries of the ones who won't dare, The excuses are the echoes of the empty, the sound of nothingness in the air. Excuses are the tombstones of opportunity, the markers of the roads not taken, The gravestones of the dreams that died, the silent witnesses of the battles forsaken. Excuses are the tombstones of opportunity, the markers of the roads not taken, The gravestones of the dreams that died, the silent witnesses of the battles forsaken. They are the relics of the past, the remnants of the fears that once held us captive, The reminders of the times we chose to rest, instead of being active. Excuses are the monuments of mediocrity, the symbols of the unwillingness to strive,

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