On Being Me

If there were one who, looking at dull life,
Saw all the dreary, shitty things there are
Yet donned a smile and just got on with it -
That man would be me.

If there were one who, got on with all types,
Pranced up and down a corridor, “loved” by
All, yet with barely a true friend to his name
That man would be me.

If there were one who glanced at others and
Decided just to hate them for stupid
“Lifestyle Choices:” no thoughts of their own –
That man would be me

We spend our days pretending to be us
And gavelling down all those around us
With all our airs and graces: “I know best,”
And sentence mere dopplegangs of ourselves!

The search for me is bloody tiresome, as
All I seem to be is someone else’s
Self, borrowed from someone else’s Self.
“We really aren’t so different, you and I...”

If there were one who, looking at himself,
Saw all the dreary, shitty things there are
Yet donned a smile and just got on with it.
That man is not complete.

ARW - 21/04/08