To be told I’m a Glue Man is not an insult
Nor a face-beaming compliment. It’s just plain fact.
I cannot live my life unless I get involved.
But when I get stuck, many things left unresolved
Render my life entangled and ill a class act
Instead of liberating the wayward adult.
Is the problem involvement? It clearly is not.
My entanglement is the infectious disease.
Anything someone gives me to hold for a while
I can then not let go of. Therefore, I compile
A huge mountain upon me blanketed with trees
That I can’t see the forest for. Is my life fraught?
I am covered in sticky stuff. It’s not a sin
But I should remain mindful that I am this way.
When I carry my mountain, I do so with pain.
Making all things a pain is one Hell of a strain.
What I need is a solvent – one that will allay
My most adhesive aspects. Where should I begin?
I should drop all the nonsense about how to be.
Attachment, detachment, compassion and such are
But a complex configuration of a mess.
When I am not so sticky then I can address
The nurturing of the self so it’s up to par.
As the self begins blossoming, I am glue free.