“I’ve tried. What else can I say?
I’ve given my all and still came up short.”
I’ve tried. What else can I say? I’ve given my all and still came up short. Short of obtaining a prize I set for myself. It’s like I’ve been held back by invisible shackles that has more give than a brick wall. Hidden reigns tied around my neck that offer no slack in the line. But I keep tugging and pulling against those restraints, like maybe one day it’ll make a difference. I suppose that’s alright. It means I haven’t given up. It means there’s still hope as long as I keep fighting.
© Sarah Doughty
So that is what I do.