If Michelangelo had quit,
Laid down his brush to sigh and say,
"I'm tired of all this intricate
And time-consuming painting.
I've worked so many years at this,
My fingers have no feeling.
How could someone ever think
I'd want to paint a ceiling?
In fact, I am completely out of steam,"
Then there would be no masterpiece
For millions to enjoy.

If Thomas Edison had quit,
Closed down his lab, declaring,
"My inspiration is all gone;
I'm sick of this perspiring.
In fact, I am completely out of steam,"
We'd not have his inventions,
Advances in technology.
How different our lives would be!

If all the medical pioneers,
Hippocrates and onward,
Because of failed experiments
And trials tedious,
Had quit and then complained,
"In fact, we are completely out of steam,"
How rampant would diseases be
Without the cures they found,
How great increase in suffering we'd bear,
How fewer are the years we'd have to live.

With pencil down, I think I'll quit
The writing of this bit of verse.
In fact, I am completely out of steam . . .
I doubt it will be missed.