Clichés count the ways
To ease into familiarity.
Content, into comfort.
Except, one forgets, how
Familiarity leads to
The gentle ground
Of an easy contempt.
It’s perhaps the most oft narrated story.
The one of swampy marshlands
Sinking simple joys
Bleakness of dim lights of indifference
That no amount of pretence can relieve.
Are you stuck in one?
Tell me, do you want out?
Or has the darkness of that comfort
Become habit, and easing out
Is no longer worthy of your effort?
03 April, 2018, Day#5 of #NaPoWriMo, 2018