I'm sure I'm not enough.
I see the super heroes make heroic leaps - that is not me.
I see the winners do whatever it takes - that is not me.
I see the movers and shakers moving and shaking the people and world around them
as I watch from the sidelines, kids in tow, lucky if I remembered the sunscreen.
When they sing, I mumble.
When they soar, I crawl.
When they create their feats of art and science
I muddle through my work of life.
No wonder they don't think much of me.
(or think of me at all)
I am nothing special.
My efforts are largely futile.
My outpourings largely facile.
My creations reveal themselves as only clumsy little things
Burnt offerings of a child who never learned any better.
And so I keep my focus
on reconciling reduced expectations
accepting my willful reframing of Enough
(this blindman's bluff)