Someone told him once,

if we stay in this place

we’ll never get out,

we’ll want to stay.

I wonder how easy it is,

to imagine a different place,

one with spring flowers,

and love on every petal.

Oh is it really that easy,

to know what love is

in our lives,

in our everyday.

Seems this is a cycle,

and we choose to remain,

rather than step away,

but what keeps us there.

Do we enjoy being sad,

being stuck,

being out of sorts,

wondering what the meaning is.

Do we choose?