without passion
you count the white hairs
as they appear on your head
while chained to a mirror with only
the cold soup of memories for nourishment
can your situation be any worse
than the dungeon scene in a movie
where the beaten hero suddenly
finds the moxie to look for a way to escape
or die trying and furiously
starts to dig at the walls
and remember there’s that alternate ending
with the little kid who shadows the action
appears in a unexpected moment
throws something between the bars
to the main character and leaves with a
tweaked smile for he knows what’s coming