Homeostasis

The clean room returns
to a comfortable mess,
the dishes return to the sink;
the visions of future plans
fall back to the dismal present
when I take enough time to think.

The rabbit gets back to procreating,
the skunk gets back to its stink;
the hopes of vindication
fade into these four walls
when I take enough time to think.

The wanderer keeps on wandering,
the liar crafts new lies;
when I think I’m progressing
I see only deprivations
each morning I open my eyes.

Claire Juno, © 2013

…dedicated to someone who struggles tonight.

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