Held Powerless
It is 2:47 p.m.
The day has crawled.
I cleaned a kitchen table.
And I swept a floor.
The rest of the time I have
Been held hostage by my thoughts.
Not painting the wall
I wanted painted
Because I did not
want the mess.
Not gardening
because of the heat.
I am existing, but not
Living. Not thriving.
Held captive and firmly
In a low place by thoughts
Of the dreaded paperwork
I have to do tomorrow
When I return to work.
I am held powerless in
My own boxed in mind prison.
I know better. My heart is
Urging me to play, to mess up
My self-imposed apathy
But the mind is holding
Me in place, all powerful.
Keeping me still
And helpless
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