5-27-11

The greatest crime is
atrophy-
life drawn in like a frigid breath in
winter-
the greatest injustice is lack of
movement-
a monstrous desire lying in wait
like a turtle under its shell-
protecting itself from the stark
realities of the outside world-
shielding itself from the ticking of
each day’s clock-
lying in wait-
protected from the world-
protected,
yet stunted by that heavy armor-
stalled by that dense burden-
how easy it would be to lay in wait-
day after day-
promising that tomorrow will be the day-
each hour wishing that the spark
would hit the fuse-
but would you be ready if it did?
the greatest crime is atrophy-
watching self belief whittle away under
the wind like grains of sand-
watching the nectar of your efforts
stolen and evaporated-
watching the anchor fall and drag the
silt of the ocean floor-
your ship suspended in a state of
catatonia-
washing down your fatigue with a glass
of procrastination-
and asking briskly for a second serving-
the greatest crime is atrophy-
and we are all afflicted-
we all fall prey to its decaying
grasp-
and wither into a mass of dust and
doubt-
fear and loss-
promise and denial-
we create our shell-
and are all too eager to reside within
its comfort-
it’s warm inside-
and our skin is fooled by the safety of it-
the greatest crime is atrophy-
the greatest injustice is a lack of
movement-
it’s too easy to become afflicted*

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