What a disappointment,

What a disappointment,

Nothing is real.

Now that my mind is clear

I can see

It is all just imaginary.

Some guy I am,

But in conversation

I come across as quite bright,

For the time it takes

To read between the lines.

I’ve heard that before somewhere

Maybe it was written down

Or in a movie.

When the sun rides high

The warmth of it beating down

On my head

The prickling of sweat

Running down my neck

Swatting a fly

Batting stray branches away

Hemmed in

Running out

Of patience

With the lack of escape

I choose separation.

When I walk in the woods

It can appear real

For the moment

Before time slips.

In dreams,

I am stalked by the fear

Of waking up

To nothing.

If there is anything out there

It is well hidden.

Once when I was young

Standing out in the open

Where the light was blinding

I heard a tree cry

It was mourning the loss

Of its neighbour.

There is always somebody

Somewhere

Worse off than you,

So my mother would say

Paddling my backside.

Was that any way

To run a railroad?

With real steam

I ran it under the table

Around the kitchen

Until it was privatised

Thrown into disrepair

And given to charity.

I am lost

In the dark

Listening to my own voice

Telling me

Everything is alright

When the truth is

It never will be

Not as long as I wait

For it all to make sense.