It seems like
if it isn’t one thing, it’s another
if it isn’t you, it’s him
if it isn’t now, it’s later

Nothing seems to be
of good quality
Everything seems to have
some kind of fatal mistake

These mistakes
are so prominent
They dominate
everything

The mistakes
are what is present
in the mind;
they’re always there

It feels like
in everything accomoplished
there is something
to blacken the pride

Can there be a
simple happy ending?
Can there be a
job well done?