Littered around the floor,

The materials from a hundred projects is laid out,

Perfectly imperfect.

Perhaps it does not look so bad to me,

Sort of a lovely disorganization,

A ready-made list of things to do for the day.

Let me look at the chaos for a moment or two.

My cable seems to be at breaking point again; but I am strong.

I can take a little more weight,

Even though I am running out of places to tie the wire,

Perhaps one more time.

However, like the swan, I appear strong and smooth,

Holding up what needs holding,

Seemingly indestructible and able to embrace forever,

To all those around me.

Such is the strength given to me to prevail … for one more day.

I am not a prisoner, so why do I feel like one.

My obligations should be my freedom,

Not my chains.

Others do not feel this way, those outside the window.

Of this I am sure.

So why am I ungrateful?