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Poem

You don't even look
Look at me now
Look at what we've done
You've built a whole house
While blindfolded and bound
Come to find out your hands
Are nailed to the closed windows
You don't even look!
And the doors bang open the wind
There's no roof on this thing!
No foundation to hold
And no shoes to stand in
You don't even look
You're trampling on rosebuds
And calling thorns sage
You don't even look
Your car you deem a stallion
Who drags you through muddy
Open fields and kicks dirt in your wounds
You don't even look
At the page while painting
A still life watercolor
Kaleidoscopic nightmare
You don't even look
In the mirror holding
Two cases not your own
And where will you lie
In a casket you can not fit?
You don't even look
When you aim holds true
This lopsided room
You subside in
You don't even look 
At the hand who dealt it
Will you look when 
We're gone?

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I was watching Wallander and his father gave some great advice to him about life:
"You don’t look, do you? You don’t look at the world , you just drive straight through it. 
Stop and look."

Probably not my best work...but I'm incredibly guilty of not stopping and smelling
the roses.. Of not appreciating life. And then something happens, someone passes,
or a relationship disintegrates and I wonder why I didn't appreciate it.

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