You all said it couldn’t be done.
Every single one of you bet against me.
And now here we are, 365 days later, and what do you have to say now?
Really? Told you so? I thought you might have a bit more sympathy since I failed so miserably
Making things usually left his desk a little cluttered, and he loved to make stuff
Everything started within reach, but by the end, some of creative debris was in the other room
Someday he would learn to put everything back in its place when he was done with it
Still, he thought of his whole experience in terms of his need to be creative, not that the output was a chaotic…
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No way he would ever get all those words down on paper
Obviously, he had bitten off more than he could chew
Vowing that after he was done he would never even touch a word processor
Every letter was a struggle as he tried to download his soul onto the paper
Long months later he typed ‘The End.’ That was when he realized his work had just begun!
Getting her teenager to work around the house was always a chore
Every day they would go round and round each other, grinding away
And eventually, it would torque the two of them right off and nothing would get done
Reaching into her emergency chocolate stash she wondered how she could lubricate the situation
She ended up giving them a peace offering from her stash and that allowed the two of them to switch …
Reading books was always a chore for Melonie
Every page was a struggle for survival with respect to staying awake
Viewing the text made the words devolve into scribbles
It was enough to give her a migraine just thinking about it
Even the pages would cut the wafer-thin skin of her fingertips
When she finally was done, it was all worth it when she left a one-star …
Didn’t have any time to recharge, so down went another bottle of caffeine and sugar
Really, sleep was in order, demanded even, but she ignored it
As she had too much to do and way too little time to get it all done
It would have made her cry, except after fifteen years of doing this, this was normal
Now if she had only believed her mother before she had become a mother herself…
Quitting the task had never crossed his mind
Unless you counted when he woke up, most of the time during the day, and just before sleeping
Every moment he thought about stopping he somehow found the will to finish it
So when that music in his head announced he was finally done, he let out a sigh of relief
That was short-lived since he realized all he had been doing was just a side…
Empathy was not something that came naturally
Math and logic were more comfortable
Only right now it wasn’t an option
The fact that she was crying
It meant there was a problem to solve
Only there was nothing that could be done at the moment
Now if the programmer could update my algorithm, maybe that would help
Determined to go to bed sooner
Enabling a more refreshing start to the week
Fumbling through the stuff that had to be done
Everything taking so much more time to do
And some of it didn’t work out at all
Then the clock read 2 a.m. and he had to admit…
Finding that there are two ways to go from here
Only can pick one branch to travel down
Reality was she didn’t feel ready to choose a path
Knowing that, she sat there and contemplated the…
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
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Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
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Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
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Never Short On Words 