Many years I left myself alone
Allowing evolution to pass slow
Inevitable judgment on its own
Without more help, and letting nature grow
Whatever she desired in my mind.
I let the empty hours slide away
Filled only by what randomness would find
In puttering about some unplanned way,
So that pure chance by natural decree
Might turn me into whatever I'd be.
But variation's purblind power seems
All spent, and I find now it will behoove
Me, if I wish to have achieved my dreams,
To make the effort so I self-improve.
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