Creativity Magazine
I find myself on the same tired and traveled roads,
That all lead back to the start.
The bends seem to be something at first,
Then I recognize the sign posts and remember I've traveled here before,
Yet the sign posts mock me with their deceit.
They seemingly point to a new path,
Only to take me back,
Until I want to scream and shout.
This warpath I'm on is growing old,
And so am I.
Will it ever end and will I ever make my way out of the maze?
Will I ever learn the lesson this path wants to teach me?
I sometimes think not because,
I never have before so why start now?
Why not try a different map,
That offers different signs and shares a,
Rest stop for the weary.
They say if you walk the same way over and over,
And expect a different result that is stupidity.
Why do I continue then,
Beating my head against the wall,
That I have left my mark on,
From so many hits.
The right path would not be so difficult,
It should be much easier,
For footsteps to walk where they are meant to,
Rather than the path with sticks and stones,
Meant to confuse and impede.
Wearily I move forward,
But to what I know not.