I am an illusion
no more and no less
drifting in and out of people's lives
connected by an illusive web
of silent energy

You cannot have or hold me
for I really don't exist
and others only see
the image that they wish to see
when they look at me

I've yet to find
a single one who cares
about the me I really am
for they only wish to see
an echo of their imagery

and I am so much more
and less than that could ever be

they read my poetry
and think that's all there is of me
as if these feelings flowing through eternity
were mine alone

and I remain an illusion
no more and no less
connected to the silence
of this web of energy

and the silence haunts
these empty hours
as I wonder how
without these illusions
can I be…?

I try to remember
the way it used to be
but in my memory
there was always someone there
coming and going
and filling my life

but more and more
I spend my time alone
is that all I ever was?

I was a wife for a while
it didn't work out
but I have been a mother
forever it seems

How is a mother supposed to be
when her children are grown and gone…?
so I try to let go of that identity
but then all that's left to me
is emptiness…

How can that be right?
So I dive into my poetry
but that is just another persona
a voice crying out in the night
hoping to be heard

so I once again assume the pose of lover
until I again discover
the other sees just what he wants to see

so I try the pose of friend
and just before the end
I see you seek to turn me
into something that I never was
a something I can never be

and so the cycles go
ever repeating and moving
but going nowhere

what is the point?
any happiness I find
is taken from me
by someone playing games of strategy

I'm so tired of the games
They only ruin
any sense of quality
that comes to be

and if life lives itself
and quality is only some
illusive form of energy
then what need has life of me…?

for I'm just another fantasy
that will only fade away

I think I will just be nobody
and let the tension of illusions
drift away

perhaps if I succeed
I'll remember
who it was
I started out to be…

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 1999 Michaelette L. Romano
All rights reserved
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