Is this my real life?
Plodding down the stairs,
Raiding the fridge - 2:45 AM -
Glass of Port finished in the first
Two episodes of Scrubs?
All because I don't sleep well alone?!?
This couldn't be my real life.
Where's the fierce independence?
What became of becoming
More individuated - growing
The being within and learning the world?
This cannot be my real life.
I am master of this ship, sailing
The courses of my planetary journey;
Plotting experience in an ever-broadening
Deliverance of knowledge and wisdom;
Bringing it back to my awakening.
This is not my real life!
There is no real life to encounter
In these back alley scourges of early morning
Bouts of loneliness and desperation; indeed:
Here there be monsters - here be my father.
