The Maze Poem by George ThoroughGood

Impossible to think in days, weeks or years, the future has an overwhelming reality of fear.
You live in a daze, a blurred haze, the grass green walls keep you trapped in a never ending maze of which you can't get out. There's no need to try, what would be on the other side if you haven't a place to hide, what are you looking for?
You've almost forgot, a ray of sunshine appears through the leaves of the branches, a crossroad approaches; left, right or straight on? You have a guess, take your chances,2 paths would have been enough of a choice but now three lay ahead, the bright yellow light is starting to go down, night approaches and the cold begins, looking for a place to lay your head again, but the grass is wet and unforgiving.
You laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all.
If the maze wasn't so tall you'd take a peek, maybe see a field of wheat, carrots and stems of leek. But you can't. And you won't. It's getting lonely in this maze and you have nothing to smoke. Surrounded by leaves but you can't find grass. At one point you hoped but those moments have passed. What once was has gone, disappeared and retreated like you've done something wrong.
How did you end up here?
How did it begin?
No recollection and no sense of being. To think should be freeing but this is deceiving. To speak is more dangerous as it could be construed as conceited. Time to sit down. Defeated. A deflated balloon with all its helium gone, an empty rubber space where air once was, a piece of string to hold it by, which has now said its final goodbye.
Why even try