Saturday, July 24, 2010

In Which I Vent A Little Resentment

Some days, the walls close in and I don't think
I'll ever finish what I must, again.
Some days just pass right by me in a blink,
With naught accomplished. It's at such times, when
My promises heap high, as do my needs,
Just when I'm powerless to make things so,
And more rebukes grow tall like backyard weeds.
Life's short, uncertain; all of this I know.
What's gone unfinished just might well remain
That way. My chest grows tight, my face goes red
Each time another chore comes up to drain
The energy I dearly hoped to spend
On my own projects, when my time is mine
Again. But I'm employed; I should not whine.


  1. This one echoes my situation with work and play, but all has its purpose. Thinking you wouldn't be fulfilled with something that is not what you meant to do, you always find a lesson or two, that fills your void in ways unforseen, and smiling away, and all is keen.
    (HA! what an amateurish response! but fun to do!)

  2. Nicely done, Jose!!

    Plus.. I was thinking last night of how so many people I admire are doing day gigs and trying to be creative... AND raising kids. I am in awe of these people.

  3. Gah -- I know and hate this feeling well.

  4. We need a code word for it. Ponder that, dear Paul!


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