Trying Too Hard

 

I’ve tried too hard
only to watch
everything I’ve tried too hard for
fall apart.
Each brick I’ve tried too hardbrick wall
to lay just so
on the brick
Before it,
falls.
Topples to the ground
in a cloud of dust
which I then
try too hard to clean up
so as not to leave
evidence of my crime.

 

footprints in sandBut there is always evidence
a foot print left
in the soft sand
a wave can’t wash away
a streak of dirt on a window
an over-worked rag will smear
a dried leaf
dropped from a dying plant
left ignored in the corner
of a room.

 

I’ve tried too hard
to be right,
to hide my truth
clenched in my fist.
I watch her
push against
the bars
trying to wriggle
herself free
as she gulps
for air.

Until one day
I remember
to stopsoft focus
to listen
to open
and welcome
the whisper
before she
has to scream.

Now, when I look out and
watch others trying too hard,
I can see me.
My lens is more focused
and less accurate,
I know, it’s what,
an oxymoron,
like a hard pillow or
a tender arrow.

It’s true though,
I am more focused,
just softer.