Those pesky creatures of habit
tie those laces together
while you sleepwalk through
your routines
your life
and leave you tripping, headlong
down that all too familiar path
through raging arguments and strife
leaving you bruised, broken
at the bottom of that familiar pit
that you dug for yourself long ago.
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: July 20th, 2026 21:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments3
Hobbled by hobgoblins quite the image created here. It seems amusing at one level but has great metaphoric meaning as well. Nicely written
Fränz, this is one heck of a poem. Those destructive patterns become almost mischievous little saboteurs here...waiting for the slightest lapse to send us tumbling again. Powerful work, my friend! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Sometimes we dig our own graves. Nice write.
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