Sliding down the oil slick,
slaloming between caltrops,
backpedaling in vain.
Somehow, some way
we always find ourselves
in new gauntlets.
The labyrinth,
convoluted infinite fortress,
perfectly designed for long walks.
Follow the thread,
listen for the echos.
The more you pull away,
sometimes,
the more it drags you in.
You can’t fault the bull
for trying to exit
the China shop
according to his nature.
Let him blow off some steam,
if he needs —
then put it on his bill
later.
βββββββββββ-
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Love the humour in the poem!
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Thanks for reading π
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Anytime! Do drop by my blog too π
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