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.

Copyright © Taylor Whetzel | Year Posted 2011

Please Login to post a comment