Work in Progress
wondering what is wrong with me.
Something inside me bucks against regimens,
with one exception--exercise.
Even that has to get switched up regularly lest I grow restless.
When I reflect on the why behind all this,
I settle on the same thing: I am a work in progress.
Perhaps I always will be.
Maybe the stuff that always works for me involves mixing it up,
trying new things, exploring different possibilities.
So while I envy those who get into grooves,
create their own customs, and stick to their plans,
I have to acknowledge that's just not me,
at least not yet.
I am still a work in progress.
For now, I'll accept the path I'm on,
no matter how meandering it seems.
I'll refrain from calling myself inconsistent and undisciplined,
nitpicking everything I don't do or do "wrong."
I am still a work in progress.
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