It's hard to be a dreamer
when my thoughts spool like black ink,
but I keep on fantasizing
like my head is a crayon box.
I see the whole page as reality
but people still get defensive when I go
outside the lines.

I use the term 'free-thinker' loosely
because I'm a delusional egocentric.
Saying it aloud doesn't wash
this bitter taste from my mouth, just like
believing flying cars would be better
wont speed up the wait at the red light.

How much of the forest am I personally responsible for
because I own a mailbox?
The guilt of a slacktivist can be irrelevant.
I am awake; I open my eyes to see burning meadows
and wonder what it might mean in laymen terms.

I once wrote of dismantling the pedestal,
opting to place you on a cloud instead.
What I hadn't mentioned is the view I'd have,
looking down on you from the dark side of the moon.

I have The Audacity!
Two caps highlighted with exclamation
and I turn a disease into a trophy.

Sometimes I imagine having the power of God
and it makes me realize how selfishly I'd use it.

I don't remember becoming an insomniac.

12/18/2010

Author's Note: A poem of some self-realizations.

Posted on 12/18/2010
Copyright © 2024 Jody Pratt