Melancholy
Is it me? Is it real?
The feelings that I feel...
never seem to match
the world around me.
What if I’m lost in time,
wrapped up in some sublime
cosmic poet’s next attempt
at melancholy?
I don’t ever feel at home,
most times would rather be alone.
I’m broken, yeah I know
cuz I don’t change things.
Maybe I’m just out of place,
running long in the wrong race,
or maybe I’m no good
at understanding.
But what if the way I feel
though I’m told, “it isn’t real”,
is tied to something more
than what we see?
What if the lives we live
and the efforts that we give
are based upon a script
that’s cockamamie?
Then who’s right and who is wrong?
Guess I’ll simply play along
and do the best I can
with how I feel.
And I guess we’ll wait and see
how this all turns out to be,
when we finally learn...
just what is real.
