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The monkey placed his hand in the hole
The treat inside his intended goal
But his clasping hand is now too big
To escape from the hole in the twig
And which of us have not laughed
When told that this monkey is so daft
That he'll stay there in his self-made trap
Rather than relinquish the coveted scrap
And yet how many times have we been
Victims of the monkey's hand within
By holding onto something we "need"
Although in some way it makes us bleed
How many have lingered too long
In a relationship gone wrong
Refusing to acknowledge the voice
That whispers, "This is a bad choice"
How many times have we kept a friend
Whose way of life we couldn't defend
Yet we tried to fool ourselves with lies
Lest we look less than cool in his eyes
How often have we had no resistance
To desert's alluring insistence
Eating one last donut, one last slice
Ignoring cholesterol's high price
It's taken some time to understand
That we all possess a monkey's hand
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