My plans were good
My thoughts were good
My words were good
Well, pretty good
A pretty Good Friday
If I do say so myself
I marvel at myself in the myself in the mirror
Pretty damn good
But...
Blemishes begin to surface
No amount of cloth can cover
And they multiply, they grow
My plans are trash
My thoughts are trash
My words are trash
Utter trash
I fall to my knees
I can’t do this thing
This thing
Bigger than big
I don’t want pretty good
I don’t want Thank God it’s Friday
I need Good
A Good Friday
But I can’t get it
Not with these plans
Not with these thoughts
Not with these words
But with acknowledging, accepting arms
I breathe in
I let go
Of my words, my thoughts, my plans
And it’s Good
For today
( At least )