Work in Progress

I am a work in progress.
My sentences don’t form in my head, just yet.
Instead, they form in mid-air while I’m trying too
Hard to find the right words to say, while time’s
Running up and I can’t quite articulate the way life makes me feel.

I am a work in progress.
I haven’t learnt the art of forgetfulness, just yet.
My arms and legs are covered in letters and digits,
Full of phone-numbers and names and obscure places that
I’m dead worried that I will forget.

I am a work in progress.
I am not entirely complete, just yet.
I am trying to find myself in places and people and
Song lyrics, and I am slowly beginning to realise that
Some works of art never really reach a defined end.



8 thoughts on “Work in Progress

  1. Flop til you drop "FTYD" says:

    Again…I’m not a poetry person. But, I love your work. I get it and it doesn’t leave me confused.

    Seriously, who can’t identify with these words (at least some point in their life.) Writing on our arms and legs…brilliant. Brilliance in simplicity.

    I don’t think I ever completed defining myself as an individual. I’m so busy being a wife and a mom. If those things were stripped away, and someone asked me who I am as a person, I’d be hard-pressed to say. This poem would say it perfectly.


    Liked by 1 person

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