I’m the rattle in your dash,
The stove that cooks too hot.
I’m that itchy little rash,
And the movie with no plot.
The workday that you skip
And the bill you never paid.
The dog that barks all night next door,
That looks like he may bite.
I sound a bit like Sigmund Freud,
And whisper you’re misled.
And lately I’m the toothache
That brings you subtle pain.
So as you do the things you do,
What does my presence prove?
The stove that cooks too hot.
I’m that itchy little rash,
And the movie with no plot.
I’m the faucet with a drip,
And the bed that’s never made,The workday that you skip
And the bill you never paid.
I’m waxy buildup on your floor,
And jeans that feel too tight,The dog that barks all night next door,
That looks like he may bite.
I’m that call you can’t avoid,
The little voice inside your head.I sound a bit like Sigmund Freud,
And whisper you’re misled.
I’m that noise the furnace makes,
The fuzzy TV when it rains.And lately I’m the toothache
That brings you subtle pain.
I am the pebble in your shoe,
You could so easily remove.So as you do the things you do,
What does my presence prove?
Maybe it proves that I'm human and have a choice to ignore/overcome. Maybe it proves that I can have control over some aspect of my life in a chaotic world if I choose not to shake that pebble out of my shoe. Then again, maybe it doesn't.
ReplyDeleteThe illusion of control is very important,huh?
DeleteSome days leaving that rock in my shoe is all I've got.
ReplyDelete