Making Mazes

There is an art to it,
the creation of twists and turns,
all designed to make it hard
to move from here to there,
to build walls where doors should be,
in the hopes that your victim never escapes.

It takes a certain kind of mind,
fine tuned to pain and punishment,
with a sense of glee
in misdirection and false trails,
who can laugh at the lost
and frequently do, not understanding
that the wanderers are rarely,
very rarely,
as lost as they appear.

They could crash through the walls with ease
if only
they didn’t
enjoy the journey so much.

About this poem

When I was a kid, I loved mazes. I love them less today, unless the company is good.

Tom