I get stuck thinking.
It's dangerous to be contrary.
The implications overwhelm,
And impulses are suppressed.

Knowing what's best,
All logic is exhausted.
Hours of deliberation,
Beating around bushes,
Only to always agree,
Reluctantly,
Upon all that we should.

Yet my mind's still turning,
Yearning for clarity
On a muddled path.
Only knowing my desire;
That is clear.

In the silence, take part
In counting the disks
Along the curvature of
A spine hunched over,
Weighed down in the dark;
Rigid wanting to act supple.
Not a care about looks
In any light, let me
Ease your burden.
Am I sick to think that
I am that strong?