Stuck

By: ​Veronica Maciag

​whisked away, immersed, another reality
an ideal escape.
consuming me whole by the perfectly crafted:
tailored suits, marvelously detailed paintings, carved marble statues,
the lives of the elite.
time, words, thoughts
all faded into the morning dew, into the mist spanning beyond the horizon
causing an ideal distraction.
unraveling in my brains and whisking me away
until the idea of me becomes obsolete,
and I am unaware of what it means to progress day by day
in this near-dystopia,
enduring all that we do.
I get to live in pure fantasy
if only for a few hours
all in a way to fully escape our reality
the reality of being in a place where we can't ever seem
to even have a voice
stuck