Chained by self-doubt
In a dungeon of in-betweens
Barred from moving to either side
Stuck motionless in the seam

A wearisome place where all the "I don't
know's" and "I don't care's" lose any voice at all
So monotonous that individualism and
opinions cannot break through the prison
walls

Complacency will start to settle in
By becoming increasingly comfortable within
the rut
Unless intervention allows a glimpse beyond
the despair
That entices the healing of a fearful gut