Distant as a ship,
Cliche as it is,
That’s what I’ve become.
Trapped inside a snowglobe
Just looking out,
Filled with crippling doubt.
I try, but for what? For who?
I put myself last on the “to do”.
People-pleaser is all I’ll ever be--
It’s my safety,
It’s what I know.
So, when the globe gets too cold
That’s where I go.
When I cannot please,
I turn in on me.
Low as low can be.
Oh the monotony.