For Hershel

Being on the run

for too long

plays tricks on the mind.

Dull gray walls

rusted metal bars

and leaning fences

transform safety into comfort

under the guise of life.

Too little growth

leads to stagnation,

a coffin for the soul.

Complacent

and accepting,

desires disappear

and trifles turn trivial.

We were too far gone.

Now, so are you.

We’ll mourn

in the morning.

We all have jobs to do.