The Mouse In The Maze Poem by Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light)

You did not
need to telephone today
to tell me
that you would not see me.
Today.
I already knew.

You left your job
I knew
you would not see me
very often.
If at all.
From this point on.

You live in the country
you can go nowhere.
Without justifying your time
people knowing.
Letting people know
paying for petrol.

You pay for petrol
money you no longer earn.
Where do you go?
Account for the petrol!
You do not realize yet
that you live in a maze.

You live in a maze
you are a mouse.
Merv runs the maze
you may run the house.
Or your own treadmill
you may run both.

You may run both
but both lead to nowhere.
You are the trained tame pet
caged laboratory mouse.
You may only run the house
and your children's home.

You are a mouse.
Merv the perve runs the maze.

The really sad thing is
he does not even bait you.
With a whole piece of cheese.
You run his prison maze
craving crumbs of affection.
He sometimes lets you keep.

You are only his mouse
running his relocated maze.
You are not as important
as his computer mouse.

Yet isn’t it funny
that I should fall for...
fall in love with
such a funny
mouse in a maze?

Apparently you are destined
to live a maze life,
running your treadmill
in submission,
to all important wishes
satisfying, the maze master?


Copyright © Terence George Craddock