Poetry

Consistently Stagnant

written by: Mike Basile

Trudging through the grime,

my legs are becoming weak.

I wish for control of time,

to find the solace that I seek.

But that power is not to come,

and so I keep on the path dreaded.

I can no longer see where I came from,

nor can I see where I'm headed.

The black sticking to my soles

bubbles eternally without rest.

Tendrils of smoke fill my nose,

emanating a horrid scent I detest.

My life is consistently stagnant,

and all that I pray for is change.

But my hopes are hammered to fragments,

for innovation is out of range.

And so I'll walk toward what I cannot see,

begrudgingly moving through the muck.

And as my life flies by me,

forever here I'll be stuck.