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About This Poem
Falling in the Trap of Self-Pity
Occasionally I have to catch myself
From falling in the trap of self-pity
Wandering in this city -
This ain’t no joke I’m here.
Been so long can’t remember
Arriving that lonely long ago November
Or was it December of ninety-five?
Wish I could fly. Every time I try
Boarding that jet airplane
Life in this God forsaken
Paradise gets more insane.
And just who the hell’s to blame?
(Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s that looking past it all)? Time
To go now,
Time to run
Past my shadow before I’m done.
Guess I’ll read more Robert Frost
And pray that airplane don’t get lost.
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