Addictions come in many forms, some obvious--drugs, alcohol, sex. Others are more obscure. I am addicted to safe choices. Whenever I think I progress, I realize that I have again made the path of least resistance. I like to think I do not do this consciously, but when the veil is lifted, I realize my subconscious has again "chosen" for me. Somehow, in spite of my desire to move on, I make the same choices, and then I wonder why the result is the same. Insanity, right??
People write songs and poetry about many emotions, situations, and people. As many songs as there are, none of them seem to state exactly what I feel. So, in an effort to explain my thought tonight, here is my first attempt in several years at some poetry.
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Constant storms and crashing waves,
Empty hearts become living graves.
The boat is damaged and the lighthouse destroyed.
The cyclone within creates a void.
She desires to leave this island;
To go into the bright blue sky-
But when she jumps into the current,
The tide pushes her back like her master's spy.
The sirens beckon and call
Enticing her with please.
But the weights on her legs
Will keep her safe again for years in a deep freeze.
She tried to escape again yesterday.
And got rejected for her efforts.
For she had seen a mirage in the air.
And assumed they were comforts.
She overextended-much to her dismay,
And returned to her master's domain
When she realized her mistake.
She didn't see the rocks
She was warned were there.
Her only cries now plead that it's not fair.
She wants so badly to leave this island-
To be free to roam at will.
Yet, if every attempt raises an alarm.
What is the point of ever risking any harm?
She'll die on this island, they say.
Living on her shore next to the beautiful bay.
The beautiful bay where animals dwell.
Yet, all she is, is an empty shell.
October 2012
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