Iced Cube.

Iced Cube.



It seems as if my whole head's stuck

inside this Rubik's cubicle,
I've worn my fingernails clear down

their almost to my cuticles,
from way back when I started it

and it was something beautiful,
this multi-colored challenge

that I've twisted, oh so dutiful.

It's daring me to change it,

into what I cannot be,
perfection captured on all sides

that I will never see,
for fate is full of many little

twists and turns that lead,
back to life's endless puzzle

where I finally must concede,
that I've discovered Rubik's cube

is so much like my soul,
Quite convoluted, misconstrued

and out of my control,
I start with good intentions,

thinking I am doing well,
till just around the corner,

I discover living hell,
the efforts I have spent on one side

all seem to look fine,
till what comes next brings me dilemma's

each one redesigned,
I have a Rubik's cube

from long ago stuck in a drawer,
entombed and cobwebbed

it will gather dust forever more,
but all the missed turns and the

skewed views that my life has made,
will still lie twisted in my mind

each endlessly replayed.

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