It always seems the same old story – <br />No matter what grand heights are won – <br />We die with out best work unwritten, <br />We die with out best work undone. <br /> <br />Unwritten books, unpainted pictures <br />In millions are, beneath the sun. <br />We die, with our great thoughts unpublished, <br />We die with our best work undone.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unwritten-books/
