Routines

Routines

​There’s no escape
From the frightening
Circle of life
A chaos of terrifying routines
One falling over the other
In senseless abandon…

We’re all prisoners
Of our own conscience.
Addicted to sacrifice,
Brought up to believe
In selflessness.
To break away is to be Free.

Hanging ourselves
From the rigid
Ceiling of expectations
With the rope called love;
The noose called duty
Shrinking daily…

Freedom comes with
Tiny doses of
Courage and recklessness
You may be born with
Or you learn and develop
With awareness

One almost begins to
Long for a morrow
That brings Disaster!!
If it would make a dent in life
A hole in the ground
For weeds to spring forth…

I’m a slave to Routines…

By |2019-04-08T03:57:00+00:00April 8th, 2019|As I see it, Poem|2 Comments

About the Author:

2 Comments

  1. Anonymous April 11, 2019 at 12:58 am - Reply

    Isn't that the reason we take something called a vacation?

  2. Pradeep Nair April 14, 2019 at 12:19 pm - Reply

    That is an inescapable fact of life. Just as we can't wait for someone to give happiness, but we need to discover it ourselves; we can't wait for someone to stop the train of our lives, but we have to just stop it ourselves periodically, step out, look around, breathe fresh air, relax, and then board the train again to resume the journey.

Leave A Comment