[setting: a seemingly overgrown garden]
She kneels, stooped over the majestic greenery,
sweat building upon her brow.
She doesn’t take the time to wipe it off.
This garden needs tending urgently.
Snip!
Was that a healthy leaf?
Rip!
Was that really a weed?
The sun, beating down with its overwhelming heat and light,
doesn’t give her the opportunity to reflect.
She must keep going.
She must do so much.
She must be good.
She does not finish, just reaches a stopping point.
First standing then turning quickly, she scurries away from the garden,
not able to evaluate what damage she has done
or what more she has to do.
It’s probably too late to make a difference now anyway.
The Yellow Brick Ave 
I don’t know about gardens but if there’s an “amount” of good required, can it still be described as “good”?
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I think so. I think that motivation sometimes matters less than impact. This piece was more about the feeling of futility like no amount of good will ever be enough.
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The piece was clear as day (and good! I forgot to mention that). I didn’t really have a direct answer in mind for that question, but that’s a good answer.
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I agree – meaning well doesn’t necessarily mean any good is achieved. That someone “meant well” is sometimes just a way of trying to excuse some damage they have done. It doesn’t change that the damage was done. I think your poem captures that really well.
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never too late
to say
hey ho
off i go
away
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I know this feeling. Very good poem.
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Thank you!
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