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