Poetry
What if I’d Been Me?
on reflection and authenticity
What if I’d been me
instead of trying to be someone who
I never had the slightest wish to be?
What if I’d been me
instead of everything to everyone
with five nines of availability?
What if I’d been me,
preventing paradigms from parrying
contentedness with words like must and should?
What if I’d been me
and let the world unfold unfettered since
my paltry protestations did no good?
What if I’d been me,
pursuing doggedly my earliest
obsessions with the sciences and arts?
What if I’d been me
as if I knew that I existed, let
alone which bits were after-market parts?
What if I’d been me
by seeing value in my values when
their resale value wasn’t quite enough?
What if I’d been me
and picked Frost’s road less traveled by, despite
the fact that it was dark and steep and rough?
