Scribbled Thoughts

Aching muscles

protest the actions

demanded,

too tired to pretend

the load doesn’t hurt

and the burden

of many

hasn’t

ground our will

and self-worth

to dust.

Another failure,

an  hour wasted

on forcing

pieces

that just won’t fit.

You don’t

fit anymore;

accept it

and move on.

Small beck of mud

waiting for

an unsuspecting foot

to sink in

and disappear,

its owner dragged under

and hidden forever

with a wet

sloppy

ripple of

‘plop’.

Pray for a

personal win,

even a small one,

anything to remind you

life is good,

you’re worth it

and even if

you can’t reach that goal

you are enough.

Reach the peak

and feel the slip

of defeat

as hope

and trying

dissolves

and all you’re

left with

is complete

and undeniable

failure.

Measure

and reproduce

a better replica

that takes their place,

ready to stand tall

while the other

remains in pieces

on the floor.

Teach a skill

when they’ve mastered

a more useful one,

waiting to be remembered

and have them

validated

as a little more

independent.

Take photos

for evidence

of a struggle

you ignored

until it was

too late to help,

but now blame

the survivor

for not coping

alone.

Are you proud?

Restock the minimum

and once again

I wonder

why I try so hard,

filling everything

and depleting myself

to be rewarded

with no afterthought

by any,

not even

a negative one.

Tip it forward

to slot support behind.

Are you ready

to measure

and customise?

Or is a template

needed?