Poetry From The Lunchroom

Lunchtime Prose:

This is you. . .
The walls are closing in
and your world is like a small room
that you can’t get out of.

You’re confined in your own mind.
You feel trapped with no way out.
All you have is a window with a view,
but it pains you to look through it
because the sights leave you empty
and always wanting more.

You feel the way you do
when you’re in the middle of a dream
and you want to run but you can’t.

You try to move your legs
but you can’t get your right leg
to go in front of your left.

The panic sinks in,
so you try harder
You try harder, but your feet
feel like they’re glued to the floor.

Your legs are rubbery and won’t move.
You’re stuck and now your dream
has just become a nightmare.

I see this scenario as a perfect metaphor.
This is a metaphor for the life we live
and the fears that keep us in it.

And you want to break out.
You really do. But you can’t.
You can’t because you don’t know how.
You’re too afraid to take the next step
so you stay put.
You stay as you are
and rationalize the reasons
why you remain the way you do

The way you are (in your head)
is the way you’ve always been.
Even if you wanted to change,
you wouldn’t know where to begin.

The idea to better yourself, in itself, is brilliant.
Only, the effort it takes to better yourself
leaves you wondering if you’ll be up to the test
or fall short.
Am I right?

It’s the process that frightens you.
It’s the steps you have to take
because the work behind each one
is intimidating.
There’s too much to do and too many doubts
swimming around in your mind.

So you rationalize your position by saying,
“It’s just not worth it.”

I mean, you want to change.
You want to be better.
You want to look, feel, and act better
but the work in front of you
seems too much.

So you say, “I just can’t do it,”
and then you sit back in your own sickness.
You go back to the room I was telling you about;
the one you can’t, which you can’t leave
or break out of
You return to the dream
where the panic sinks in
and you want to run,
but you cant.

Am I close?

Instead of trying to be anything different
you stay the same as you are
At least this way
you know what to expect.

You become predictable
At least this way you can predict what happens next.
And no, there are no surprises this way.
The chances of losing are slimmer.
Maybe this is not an exciting life
but you prefer it this way.
To you, it’s better to predictable
than be afraid of the unexpected.

You’re too worried
You worry about the “What if?” questions
that you calculate in your head.
This is why you’re stuck in that same room
and the walls are closing in
To you, it’s better to be imprisoned
and know what’s coming
than be free and afraid of wonder.

This is you . . .
Too afraid to live
Too hurt to stay as you are
You’re too afraid to try
and too afraid to fail.
You’re too wrapped up in yourself
to realize the only person
that can save you from yourself
is you . . .

Careful with the lies you tell yourself, my friend.
Someday, you might believe they’re true

Am I right?


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