BHAGs
Big, hairy,
audacious goals
I seem to have
them by the droves
They’re fun to
think about
And sometimes carry
out
But the big
ones get boggy
My mind becomes
foggy
And I chip
away, as at blocks of ice
Getting things
done would be nice
But the BHAGs survive
from year to year
And I may never
get them done, I fear.
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