Languishing
A Poem
All of my hopes and dreams are gently languishing underneath a soft blanket, curling up into unawareness as a sort of amnesia takes over me
This chaise lounge of malaise, a new resting spot for stillness, but not the good kind the kind that is catatonic and afraid (or too lazy) to move
I am personally languishing as days pass where I am upright but not all right and too tired to attempt to make more progress with an abyss staring at me
Some people call it ennui with the current state of the world and I tend to agree, but also I think that I am boring and languishing feels good
That slow trickle of immovability an orange cone to self a sign that says caution but you read it as inaction and so you languish
Maybe in time, this lack of headway will be an antidote to hustle and the grind will become the mind and we will allow ourselves to sit and become one again
© Jonathan Greene 2020
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