The Maze

I am stuck,
In a maze
Of my own making. 
Each day
Through a haze of grey,
I grope about blindly though the dark
Hoping.
For an exit, for an end,
Give me a new place to begin.

My outreached hands eventually find purchase, they make contact,
I bring myself close and find myself face to face with incontrovertible fact,
Another wall,
White and bumpy,
Confronts me,
Blocks me,
Contains me,
And I, I lack the capacity; 
To move it, 
Traverse it, 
Go around it. 
So,
I submit to my fate: 
The trap door opens,
I fall in... 
And we start all over again.