Scribbled Thoughts

The past is forever,

already present

and shaping the future,

hide it, ignore it,

but it changes nothing,

it will never disappear

and you can never

redo your mistakes.

Opaque waters

hide the churning dark,

swirling to infect the clear

and spreading

until pure is gone

and black is everything.

Return of the clock

checking your movements,

assigning your time

the routine the same as before

but its onimous presence

reminds you

there are rules,

no freedom

and someone is watching,

always.

Add to the minimum

and hear the groan

of the lazy,

echoing no effort

but sagging into complaint,

all productive energy

focused on their wrongs.

Cracked transferred to new,

refreshing the scratches and worn

for shiny and fresh,

discarding the familiar

and beginning a new bond,

while the old

is discarded.

Invent a solution

that no one else considered

and watch the appreciation

or dissatisfaction

mould into form

and forever mark

whatever intentions

were originally there.

Whispered impressions,

ideas, possibilities

linger under skin,

flexing muscles

and robbing thoughts

until they stand alone

in unknown cold

and sink into nothing,

letting the other

take control.

Offer your respect

to coax a conversation

with the unknown,

exploring a thrill

to find out

if this is

the right

or wrong path.

Satisfy on a budget

but contribute every part

of yourself

to understanding

and reassuring

you are really here

and will continue

to seek out

the other.

Walk into empty

and build a story

others will approve of,

unsure of reactions

and the assignment of roles,

but injecting enthusiasm

and reaching out to inspire.

Will anyone respond?