I am OK. Not really!

I did ok,
I went for trekking, exhausted halfway,
I did ok.
I made pancakes, burnt half of them,
I did ok.
I arranged a party, half turned up,
I did ok.
I painted a peacock, colored it yellow,
I did ok.
I called grandmom, forgot her birthday,
I did less than ok.
I finished my meal, threw the salad,
I did less than ok.
I bought a purse, lost it in one day,
I did less than ok.
I went to Rome, did not see Michelangelo,
I did less than ok.
All my life, i settled around 'ok',
I did less than ok.
I think, I never tried for the best,
I always settled for ok.
Maybe,what appeared best,
was actually only ok.
Maybe the word 'ok' is so toxic,
that it made me adjust 'ok'.
Or maybe I am just another,
one of the millions modern world's slaves of 'ok'.

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