Chains

To see your bindings

Ask who knows you

Best of all; yourself

Take a seat and think

Name, and write

In the privacy of your room

What could be

Where you fail

And see that every day

Every action

Can weaken and strain those links

Or add to them

Yet our natural state

And inner destiny

Is with effort and many roads

Tending to those bindings

Every muffled groan

Grey-dull morning

And aching evening

Hear them squeak

Shave and scratch

Unmake them.

By J.W.H. Hobbs.

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