At times they were just plain words on paper
and at times they were expressive and powerful poetry.
At times it was paint spilled all over
and at times it was a masterpiece.
At times it was a stress
and at times it was a relief.

I guess
progress was never meant to be linear.
It was never meant to be all flow
without ebb.
It was never supposed to be all great and good,
but neither were these times supposed to have the power
to bring you down to give up,
because you feel it will never be good enough.