There are so many things one wishes to.
Simply.
Do.
Yet it is that word that destroys mentalities.
Or more so.
A lack in ability.
Leading to such.
Simple.
Ends.
As it always is in the aftermath.
But fall short even then.
For it was not your own hand that tipped the scale.
Or even knew of its presence to begin with.
Even if time has served no other purpose.
But to sharpen reaction time.
Coming about in the most ambiguous of ways.
Then reaching the destination might have just been as simple.
As forgetting the word entirely.