Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Dinner With Myself
A poem (of sorts)
I invited my psyche to dinner last night.
I don't know what possessed me to do it.
They didn't all wait for me outside the door;
My Confidence just burst right through it.
As personified archetypes filled up my lounge
I hid in the kitchen, not looking,
'Til my Arrogance entered and stood at my shoulder,
Giving unwelcome pointers on cooking.
Once dinner was served the soiree hit its stride:
While my Inner Child cried for my mother,
Self-Loathing and Ego both acted like strangers
Whilst secretly poisoning each other.
My Uncontrolled Lust kept on groping his neighbours,
And my Shyness just tried to look small,
My Id didn't seem to be interested in food -
He just sat and smeared poo on the wall.
This went on for hours, until I was spent.
I herded them out to the street,
And carried poor Self-Control into a cab;
He was full of Jim Beam, yet petite.
You can't choose your family, they say, nor your friends,
Your enemies seem to choose you,
But the people from whom I would most like to part
Live inside my cerebral stew.
I suppose I should just learn to live with these freaks;
After all, every one of them's me.
If I was able to exorcise one,
God only knows who else I'd be.
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