A poem by Isabelle Sorrells
Sometimes I just can’t.
I can’t do what I need to do
Even thought I know I won’t consciously be able to do anything else
Until it is done.
So I push through
Because it must be finished
Now,
By me.
So I push through,
I work it out,
I make it happen,
Even though it may not be finished
Or even good when it’s done.
But then, when it is finally over,
I am astonished,
Over
And over
Again,
By the impressive quality of it
And just how motivated I am to do it again
By the end.