Talent Wasted Poem by James McLain

Self improvement cannot be found choas adrift.
The love of self betterment,
is as if clutching another's dream.
Some times a person can help another see.
Other times,
the sand of time like Rome it cannot wait.
Knowing that from birth each person's worth.
Where would we stand.
What standard would we pause and think except?
Talented and gifted.
More than other's it seems, some sometimes have.
And a gift like kind in heart the gifted play.