Never do we truly
see our own faces,
at best we
catch crude,
cursory reflections
in the water’s stillness,
a storefront window,
or the unwitting
expression of a stranger.

The insanity we live
amidst leaves us numb
thuggery, subterfuge,
a breakneck pace
that kills our souls
in an infinite number of ways,
slowly, softly but surely.

So many of us
mimic our masters,
mindlessly mirroring
every quirk and tick,
learning their nervous habits
and deepest desires,
anticipating their wants,
we offer our faithful service
with the quiet hope
we’ll be seen, valued,
and finally chosen.

Sadly, this will never be,
our masters are
sick, unhappy, and weak,
and live their lives
in haunting fear.
Their only goal is to
continue the facade forever,
they are in the business,
not of choosing but of fooling
and using every ounce of us up
until our souls are
dry as the desert wind.

There is another way.

About this poem: Over these last few months of freedom I see the world every differently. I also often think back to my decades in corporate America. I witnessed so many people giving their time so freely, offering so many of their ideas in the hope that, someday, they’d be recognized and rewarded. Oftentimes the only tangible reward received was more work, tighter deadlines, and larger demands.

It wasn’t until my forties that I realized how dangerous it was to constantly seek approval, give our power away, and entrust your future in the hands of another. When you take the time to really get to know yourself, discover your own unique talents, and have the confidence to offer these talents to the world the universe will open a door. Once you muster the strength to walk through that door life will never be the same.

Yours in the Chain,

Eric

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