November 11, 1994
poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
"Right Out the Door"
You started this thing in a whirlwind Opening doors and walking right out them Never turning around and not knowing the outcome But just didn't want the same thing again Oh, how I never even pondered that I'd be that boring old thing That sameness, that rock to which Slick slimy algae attaches; and then To go stagnant to sink and to drown. You couldn't attach and you cannot hang on The balloon in your hand blew away long ago You struggled to understand your urgings And in the end you will always run away. I am the rock, sinking Slimy, slowly, thinking What did I do to deserve this outcome? Because I stayed as I always have And didn't question until it was too late.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
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