The last week’s been tough, I’m not gonna lie. I’ve found out a lot about myself, and not all of it has been good. In an attempt to learn how to communicate better, a lot of shortcomings have been identified. Yet again, as we go back to the start of a month and a new set of projects, comes the realisation that habit is okay. I’m getting better at organising, but that in turn shows up more imperfections in the planning.
This week’s poetry, therefore, reflects an almost perennial struggle to improve the process, both personal and professional. This poem’s also been slightly edited between first publication and here.
Imperfect
However hard I try,
There is no escaping.
Countless faults and foibles:
Embedded in shaping
The person within,
Find space to begin.
All that is seen, these holes
Counted imperfections:
How conflict forged my soul.
Sadness, recollections;
Move past times I failed
Shortcomings exhaled.
In the darkest of days
It would be so simple:
Ignoring my failings
Those dreadful examples.
Of me at my worst:
Pained, selfish outbursts.
As this new morning dawns
Renewed optimism:
At the journey ahead,
Time for heroism.
Put doubt to one side;
No need now to hide.
Grasping all of the tasks,
With belief as a guide:
It is time to evolve,
Go along for the ride.
Whatever may come
I’ll cope, ‘til it’s done.
The Internet of Words 