Total Control

I am not a poet

And so therefore

This is not a poem

What you’re looking at right now is not a computer screen

And you are not a reader

On this

Let’s call it a rock

Or honestly whatever else I want it to be

I reign supreme

With my thinking cap crown on

And a keyboard at my disposal

This world is what I

Once again not a poet

Make it

This is my world, this screen

My kingdom I have slaved to make

My pride and joy

The skeleton in my closet

The one thing that makes me think

I did something right today

Nobody can touch me in my world

It is mine

And mine alone

I can let you in

Just as easily as I can kick you out

We are free here

You and I

But when I step into reality

This is not a rock

You are reading this poem

Though I don’t know why

On your bright, little computer screen

I am a poet

Albeit

Not a very good one

For some reason

This world doesn’t let me be who I want

Make what I want

Love, eat, say, do

What I think is right

 It’s not a world that’s really that easy to live in

But we do it anyway

Us strange, rather masochistic people

We tell ourselves this is the only way

Well, on this rock

With me as its ever-so-benevolent

Beloved and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful

Supreme overlord

There’s always a way

And that’s why I started

And hope to forever continue writing our stories