MY WHEEL

I am akin to the gerbil
trapped by see-through walls
motionlessly running
on the endless wheel of existence

As I watch the walls that trap me
my spirit sinks
as the fascinating menagerie looms
dangling millimetres away, kilometres away

And I run
my feet grow tired; my body aches
my soul grows weary with the burden of frustration
and still I run

Watching it pass me by
opportunities, evil, life and love
turning a deaf ear
and a blind eye

And then confusion
pandemonium as I run loose in the menagerie
time is long before the fun ends
and the truth dawns

I have grown
but the menagerie is not open
the menagerie is contained by another larger cage
and ahead of me lies a spectacular larger running wheel

Years pass, centuries fizzle out
babies are born, old and young die
my mind expands and to my alarm
the wheel is rusted and creaky

I find solace in nothing
my life is routine
a horrible routine
no rest is provided me by my foes

No quarter asked and none given

I gaze again outside this large cage
and something else gazes back, sinister
this beast is uncaged
it watches me vacuously

And I run again
my feet grow tired; my body aches again
my soul grows weary with the burden of frustration again
and STILL... I run

How many times have I tread these same bars?
perhaps a thousand
I live the same day over and over again
and the wheel turns

I should be dumped to the beast as prey
it could happen any time
I await it with vigor
for my wheel is creaky, and there is no new one in sight.

Rob Webster
3:52 a.m. April 19, 1998