NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Three, Poem Twenty-Three

 

 

No Close Finish

 

That's right. world 

threw you off again. 

People only see

what's on ground.

 

Progress kills faster

than giving up. 

 

Closeups saved for

each slow standup. 

 

No one remembers

anything done right.

 

Memory holes wait 

for next what happened.