Turned to Stone

The droning of the engine reverberates
Dawn draws to a close and eyes dilate
As the stop and go cycle but replicates

Idled in drive, feeling stuck in time
Try to move forward but come to find
It's as if progress has suddenly turned to stone

- - -

The clacking of concatenated keys congregate
A cacophony of clicks that accumulates
As phone rings and stale small-talk all aggregate

Tied to a cubicle, laughing - it's so comical
Desperate to escape to the point of fanatical
It's as if free will has suddenly turned to stone

- - -

The piling of the sheets begins to suffocate
Eyes strain on a screen made to ameliorate
As reality outside seems to deteriorate

But I'm woken by your warmth, set in motion by your touch
Given new life, shown mercy by your love
It's as if I'm now Perseus and will no longer be turned to stone

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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