Doubt, doubt, doubt:
I can’t seem to get out.
I’ve tried going in
With insight;
I’ve tried going through
With metta,
But it seems to me
That I just can’t win.
Is it the practice?
Or, is it me?
Or, is it monkey mind,
That’s got me out of my tree?
I don’t know really,
And I feel so stuck
Am I just depressed,
Or genuinely out of luck?
It’s so dark in here
When I get so blind;
I can’t look forward,
I can only look behind.
The view from here
Is mighty bleak;
I’m afraid to look around
Fearing I might freak.
But what will happen
If I just take a peak?
What will I find, I wonder?
I quiver and squeak.
But I must keep looking
If I want to see,
The end of this black mood;
And then, perhaps I will break free.
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