NaPoWriMo 2019: Day 7

Today’s prompt: “write a poem of gifts and joy.” (

My Gift

All I’ve ever wanted is to know I did good.
To know I helped make someone’s world better.

All the worry about how, about selfishness
and greed and anger and resentment

How can I do good when all these roil
Like a wadded up, wedged in, blocked pipe?

All the worry – all the parts of myself
I don’t deserve, that no one deserves,

The roiling, wadded up, wedged in, choked on
Psychological blockage,

Maybe it’s all just because I can’t tell
Whether I did good.

Maybe I don’t need to know.
I just want to do good.

It’s the little things:
The difference between “knowing” and “doing.”

I have a gift for semantics and sometimes
It’s all good.

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