Poem:
My brain is a bandit.
It sneaks in,
packs up old cravings,
steals my serenity,
and calls it “just thinking.”
But I’m on to it now.
I set traps with Truth.
I lock doors with prayer.
I post guards with calls.
I don’t let it run the place anymore.
It can sneak,
but it can’t stay.
Still…
Still aware.
Still armed with willingness.
Still guarding my peace.