Being stuck
An endless state
Of disguised paralysis
hanging from the canopy of our beliefs
like the sneaky mistletoe
when tradition needs
to transgress tangibility

Being stuck
The bogus narration
Of a fraudulent poet
Usurping the space beholding wisdom
Corrupting the stage with meaningless babble
Hypnotizing the soul
Drowning recognition

Being stuck
Such a human endeavor
Of immeasurable proportions
Eroding effect of
Timeless afflictions
In hearts held by threads of dormant dreams

Being stuck
Ordinary words casting
Forbidden Omens
Overloading with devastating weigh
Our already fagged Will
Beseeching for respite

Being stuck
So common and prosaic,
And yet inescapable anguish
Of the mind that wanders in old stories,
Shrinks fear in and its silenced the by the outside voices
Screaming louder than the voice of our deepest of being

Being stuck
Is an ill-condition! I declare!
Shall progress find the cure?
Where in this unfathomable world of consciousness
Might I find and myself
And discharge the impostor
Bonding me to stagnation




Mercedes Calcano



Image Credit: Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán

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