As I lay down my weary pen a few thoughts I shall share.
Of tall tales I did not tell but a story of perseverance – ’tis what separates the men from the boys.
My colleagues, this I must say.
Excuses I had – but no one to tend them to.
Measured were my words, for the audience was taken into account and the luxury of anonymity I did not have.
If the pen is said to be mightier than the sword, then the keystroke is more powerful than the cannon, and the internet a great deal more.
For once published it cannot be undone.
Messages were there, though not always clear, for the wise person can see through a clouded prism.
In a sentence he can read a book and in a word, he can understand a complete concept.
Oh, the wise get wiser whilst the fool plateau.
Not a philosopher or a wise man I am, but a man who sees objectively.
As I proceed to the next challenge it is for myself to measure me.
I am to serve as a barometer for myself; will I live up to the standard I have set?
No the ink has not run out and wellsprings have not gone dry, But it is the time that has run out.
Time I lacked and so the pearls of wisdom that spilleth over, to enchant, captivate and exercise the mind in various forms of mental aerobics must come to a halt.
Farewell my dear colleagues, farewell.