I’m feeling something lightly, in the press.
Tune In. You’ll learn a lot.
It spoke of great tasting harm,
And mouth-watering times
Slightly, in the press.
I’m smart now.
I’ll enjoy walking around
With that egg on my face.
I want people to notice my reality,
But they’re stuck in theirs, I guess.
Too many of us who don’t listen
Can’t see past the seeds of our transgressions.
We don’t like to be happy.
That’s what they say about people.
I won’t notice that reality
Because it seems too real.
My mood has soared to the heights of hell
And it’s still too cold.
Even if there is no one around here,
Watching me,
I can burrow down so deep that it won’t show.
I won’t notice that that reality was once a TV show.
Sounds scary but I’ll live.
You do not notice the reality
In which you do not live.
Empathy is Poetry 