Illusion speaks and my ears
Beg not to listen—they would
Rather sink underwater, somewhat
Safe from candied promises, my head
In a bubble—though I can't help but
Eavesdrop on the whispers that entice,
Even though I know they are only
Bugs—maggots—that wish to
Gnaw on hopeful, discontented skin,
And I've been through this over
And over—I'm tired of the teeth,
The false path lined with sweets,
And that little ol' something better
That never seems worth the trouble
When my ears fall for the trickery.
So I'll keep my little bubble and plug
My ears from the fluff—being simply
Content with mindfulness and subtle
Gems that already gift enrichment.