Was it easy lashing the whip,
feeling the lion's fear?
Dancing at your every whim
Growing old and weary
as you watched and laughed.
What sick pleasures spew from your soul?
Let the lion run!
The lion as the subjective onlooker,
Knowing strength, unable to stand,
He cares. He Knows. He wishes.
The stopping point,
but disabled by that invisible thing,
he is loyal, and you,
you continue to play ring master.
2 comments:
This poem comes from the feeling that you can step outside yourself, or a situation you're in, and truly see what's going on, but the moment you return to yourself you are helpless again. It may not be apparent, but it is the lion that creates this poem when he has stepped outside himself. There are specific instances in your life when you know you are being treated badly, but are helpless. It's like knowing you have the power to save yourself, but something holds you back.
Thanks for writing this.
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