Entangled: Written Tuesday 18th November 2025 (Aged 50)

Entangled

I am too hard on myself,
but, who else could I be?
I watch,
and I know,
people carry placards,
and they make lives
from timber yard wood.
Shuffle,
shuffle in strange meetings
with their words,
entangled in strange meanings,
make promises
that turn to arrangements,
and then it becomes fleeting.
I wonder,
I wonder,
what is the actual meaning?
What is the meaning —
of all this idle dreaming?
And I know,
I am too hard on myself.
I push myself too hard,
and I push myself up against a wall.
I catch myself,
and I find I am on a shelf.
I look down,
and my feet are entangled within a belt.
I look up,
and the heavens start to melt,
and I wonder —
what is the use in going over it all?
Loss,
loss is so cruel,
and I am too hard on myself,
and that makes me wonder —
about the quality of my life tools.

James Garratt: Tuesday 18th November 2025

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