In My Head

Mixing

My life is a pitcher of lemonade

The pitcher sitting on a wooden picnic table

And it sweats

Just like me as I stir my lemon mixture

And accomplish seemingly impossible goals

The water drips onto that table

The sun evaporates it

But the water stains remain forever

Sometimes the lemonade is sour and bitter

So I add sugar to it

I taste it again and mix on

Sometimes the drink is too sweet

And life throws in its own lemons.

But I stir on

Tasting it, perfecting it

Sometimes I am not the stirer

Sometimes I lose control of the wooden spoon

But when it is in my hands again I stir

I stir despite my lack of stamina

I stir despite the blisters on my skin and the sun burns

Some people pass by.

Sometimes they hate the taste

Sometimes even I hate the taste

But I stir on

And I'll keep stirring

Until life has no more lemons for me

Until my wooden spoon breaks

Then I'll finally taste my sweet, sweet life