As I watch the map
Twirl and Swirl
Behind the forecaster,
A memory becomes dislodged
From decade distant days
Spent in hospitals of state:
"How much sunlight will we see?"
Like it's metered out for me,
And there's not enough energy
To fuel my madness,
To keep up the charade...
A la "The Truman Show"...
Are they trying to intrude
In my chaotic little world,
Spinning 24/7, with threads unfurled?
I wonder what is real,
What is fancy,
What lies behind the scene?
Sometimes, the surreal
Becomes so, so real,
That my mind does reel
And I find myself asking,
As events become taxing,
"Did I ever come out of the coma?"
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