Slow Death by Compromise

Terrible times when the mouse at sea
Became trapped in a web of cheese,
Yet had no teeth to bite himself free.
The panicking eyes of realisation;
Reminds me of my own entrapments
Where once I had the capacity, now
I can only sit quietly and observe.

Such sad yet morbidly happy times
When the need to struggle and escape;
Slowly becomes a distancing memory.
As the mouse slows his thrashing, and
Stops frivolously wasting his energy
He understands the need instead, to wait
For that cheese to slowly melt away.