New Ideas

It's getting awfully small in here.
I feel my mind decreasing.
Nothing fresh is coming in.
I'm having trouble breathing.

It's a puzzle what is happening.
All was grand before.
In my cozy little room
Just behind the door.

My thoughts were organized and practical
I needed no reminders.
My eyes could see just perfectly
Inside the custom fitting blinders.

And then there came a knocking
"Get your new ideas right here."
I shouted, "No, I couldn't"
And I quickly closed my ears.

New ideas bring trouble
I don't want them coming round.
I'm closing all the windows now.
Shutting my senses down.

My mind feels like it's draining.
The air is dead in here.
If they would knock just one more time.......
But it's too late I fear.
© Bobbie Burnett
To email the author, please click on her name.

PLEASE NOTE: This poem is not the opinion or characteristic of the author
but meant to show how devastating the shunning of new ideas can be to one's mind.

To sing along click here for the lyrics.

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