Limbo

I read a book once.

A man explained to his daughter,

"That's the way it was before,

This the way it is now,

And that, the way it will be in the future.

So, you see, things always change."

His daughter's reply caught me off guard:

"Things always change,

But do they ever get better?"

I think about this a lot.


I watched a movie once.

A girl was stuck in a loop of time

And it took her days to notice.

The same bland routine:

Waking up, drinking tea, going to work.

Exchanging pleasantries, trite words so common

That the repetition of them was quite ordinary.

A loop of time, so strikingly like her reality

That she didn’t know it was a special torture.

I think about this a lot.


I heard a song once.

It went something like this:

"You say you'll stay,

And then you go away,

And when you crawl back to me,

Though I know where this will lead,

I say yes anyway."

A limbo of betrayal

That we can't seem to break free from.

I think about this a lot.


I wrote a poem once.

And evidently, you're reading it right now.

It's about how things change

And change

And change

And are never different at all.

It has no rhyme scheme

But do you really need the repetition of sounds

In a world filled already with loops

And limbos

And change so like, what was before it?

I think about this a lot.