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Poem
You. 
Yes you. 
Are hard work. 
There's nothing more to it. 
The scarcity of my vocabulary limits me from describing the complexity of the situation buuut yes. 

You are toilsome. 
Tedious the father. 
Perseverance the mother. 
And you are the unmistakable offspring. 
You are the reason I have sleepless nights that seemingly yield no reply. 
You have been found guilty of being the causation of my sweat excretion.     

You persistently infiltrate what was once a routine prayer without you. 
Now my God knows about you. Through me. 
Indeed, that's quite the accolade.
How you managed to systematically permeate through to every area of my life    
Trepidation being the result of this uncontrollable cascade
And ultimately increasing the probably of my hesitancy. 

You're hard work. 

But you're also hard work. 

You are the blossoming reward of my efforts, enveloping smiles encapsulated by the glorious figure you adorn.    

Your demeanor and grace, weigh up as reason enough to continue on effortfully.
                                                
My body may be weakened by the strenuous activity 
but God remains hard at work within me equipping me for the hard work you present
And you've proven to be worthy of the cause. Timeously. 

What started as ambivalence progressed into what can only be described as Irrefutable pleasure. 

Molding my being through the work you present remains a addictive pleasure.      
Ecstasy. You excite me. 
                                  
The future is never guaranteed in the present, but as you continue to preparedly present yourself in my present, I will continue to receive your presence as a precious present. 

You may be hard work, but you're my hard work
A task I solemnly lay claim to
And together we shall walk, reaping the rewards to come in this toilsome, yet, gratifying journey.
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