Little World
My little world is shattering,
Like panes of broken glass;
Each shard that falls upon the ground,
Builds yet a new impasse.
Devoid of all necessities,
Bereft of all my joys;
Alone in this, my agony …
Lost confidence and poise.
No pedestal to stand upon,
To save this fall from grace;
No mirror to reflect
The weary turmoil of this face.
So more and more I sink into
My little world of dreams,
Where everything is make-believe,
And nothing’s as it seems.
The hollow empty feelings
That I’ve come to know by day,
Can be discarded, if I just
Pretend them all away.