A Late Night

So far from perfection, reminded every day, Always striving to reach the unreachable, Yet doomed to fall forever short, imperfect, Not ever enough, no matter how I try. I get by for a few days, decent, but not great, And inevitably, I fall short, I drop the ball. Of all the things I juggle, all the things in my life, You are the most important, and your disapproval cuts the deepest. I’ll rarely let on how much this act wears on me, How tired I become, tired of juggling these things, But I cannot fail, I cannot stop, and so go on, Seldom complaining, and never explaining my worries. And so I juggle on, picking up all that I drop, For I know that you are juggling too, endlessly, And I try to help in any way I can, though far away, And I despair when I realize, once again, I have failed. So I come to understand, again and again, daily, That I will never be good enough, never meet my own standards, That you deserve better than I, though I dread the day you come to this, The same conclusion, for that is the day I lose everything.