I chose, long, long ago

To live in surroundings

Open, free and uncluttered,

Room to breathe, to think.

Now, the horizon shrinks,

Moving, drawing ever nearer.

People amass about me

Stumbling, trampling in blind haste.

How large it once seemed

When I looked upward,

Seeing openness largely opening

Calling me up to it.

Now, I can't even breathe;

At every turn I am caged,

Every sight looms too large

Each motion is a collision.

The World encumbers me,

Too small, too tight.

I can no longer turn.

I can see no more paths.