There are so many false paths

and when we are told what the world is 
and how we should live in it
a maze of confusion 
sends us on a journey
to unknown destinations
where we are sure
we will arrive

After a time
some of us
begin to wonder
is this all there is?

I’ve been here and I’ve been there
but I don’t feel that I have arrived anywhere

Some keep searching 
for the right path
It leads to retirement

After forty years
these runners of the maze
might say, “I’ve lived an interesting life
I never planned to do the things I did”

One day,
they fall
And their family puts them into assisted living

Someone brings them Jell-O and wipes their ass
until TV baseball and newscasters make them comatose
and their body shuts off
one organ at a time
until their light
finally goes out

There are others
who realize they have gone from one path
to another

None of these trails led out of the maze
and they begin to suspect
they are trapped

This feeling
is in the back of the working man’s mind
and his misery is magnified by his inaction

Realists understand
the maze was built to keep them in
and they pick up their tools 
breaking through insurmountable walls

A tool is a word, an expression
an entrepreneurial spirit
given 
by the gods

We are slaves
until we recognize who we serve

In this confusing world 
filled with signs and directions
it is the one who refuses to read
retirement maps and the corporate compass
who discovers 
their true north
and looks to the stars for direction

Their dreams are written there
as they always have been