Cynical Thinking In A Toilet Cubicle Poem by Dan Brown

Four walls around me.
Closing me down?
Or protecting me?
Four walls around me.
Holding me.
And, as I sit comfortably within them,
I feel disconnected from the World.
I feel in a position where I am able to
Stop,
Step back,
and assess everything going on around me.
My mind processes a million things in the
mere minute it takes for me to settle.
I ponder about my surroundings.
How scruffy and run-down the buildings are,
how multi-cultural the people are,
how swanky these toilets are,
and how cute that boy, who seemed
to be stalking me, was.
I turn my attention to my own life;
try to expand on how it’s going, and
where it’s going. I decide that I will
cross that bridge, when I come to it.
My thoughts switch, fleetingly,
to the world in general.
To the War, and how many have suffered.
To the state of the country, and how many are still suffering,
and to how I’d feel were global warming to affect my lifetime.
I find it amusing, how so many detailed thoughts
flash through my mind, in split seconds, yet
I consider each issue with equal depth and eagerness.
I suddenly begin to delve into the complexities of
my friends, my family, and myself;
wishing my Mum weren’t so volatile,
my friends weren’t so transparent,
and that I didn’t trust so easily.
The physical pang of hurt connected with these notions
shake me from my reverie, as I realise
I should head back to where I was supposed to be.
I like the way my mind works,
the way I can have almost 3-D thoughts.
I like that I like the way my mind works.
I suppose they call this “thinking outside the box”.
The irony is not lost on me,
as I realize that I drew this conclusion
inside one.