It sneaks on you so slow and slick,
That by the time you see it it’s too late.
You try to make it go away, but it’s no use,
Your mind’s already full of horror plays.
A part of you knows they’re unreal,
But still, it’s hard to turn them off at will.
They play just like a broken record on repeat,
Take all your energy, and then you’re weak.
Just like a puppet on some strings,
You dance to tunes that make you ache.
Whether they’re past or future scenes, it’s hard,
To make them stop; from them being so dark.
You might feel weak but don’t give up,
There is a way to cut the strings, be free.
The past is gone, the future hasn’t been created,
One thing that’s real is being in the present.
It’s here where all the choices are decided,
The hard part is to be in it fully, and trust lightly.
I will not lie, it’s not an easy task,
The monkey mind isn’t as fun as it may sound.
But it can be tamed with empathy and patience,
And helpers who can maybe guide these lessons.