A Gaze Through My Reality-scope

Broken

My expectations are changing every day,

shifting like lumps of clay,

in the hands of an amateur,

myself and the shape changes as I mature,

I try to make my life's sculpture perfect,

but my hands are clumsy and add defect,

instead of perfections but still I sculpt and shape,

living and learning and using lot of tape,

to try to fix my past mistakes but still,

I realize reality is a hard pill,

I can't live regretting and so I must keep moving,

I must go forward because there's no point I'd be proving,

by trying to live for a day that's already gone,

so I find hope in a new dawn,

and a joy unspoken,

when my expectations are broken.