Instructions Not Included
Brokenness hides
under dusty beds,
refusing to share
notes, next steps, and the night’s knowledge;
all the days’ works
lost; all the world’s mistakes
languishing within reach,
tempting our pleas. “Do you
have any suggestions? Doesn’t
everyone question this? May I borrow your
manual?” Like marriage, the
application didn’t include instructions for
parenthood. I need my
sleep.
Author’s note: This acrostic poem offers a raw look at the unpredictability of life—how we stumble through without a guide, learning the hard way. The poem explores the beauty and failures, the hands we’re dealt and the ones we throw away. With an unfiltered voice, I hope it captures the tension between chaos and resilience, stripping away illusions to reveal life as it is—unpolished, unscripted, and relentless.
“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”
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