They Work for Me

They Work for Me


Is it possible,
Could it be,
That someday
I will be me?

What are the odds
That day will come,
If not just one
Out of many, some?

Funny thing to live
In this group,
Who’s who
In the crazy troupe?

Some show up
Then don’t come back.
So damn many
I can’t keep track.

If I made this up
And they were fake,
Probably a list
Is what I would make.

Some who outside show
And who some don’t,
I never see or hear.
Let me in, they won’t.

Why are some a part
Of my conscious mind,
Fully loaded so to speak,
And others hard to find?

I still lose bits of time.
If I called them “friend,”
If I acknowledged,
I thought that would end.


They come in,
Out I go.
Some notice,
Few know.

I fool myself to
Think I have control,
But truly who
Controls a soul?

They seem to know
Times they should hide,
And when to show,
I’m along for the ride.

Oh gee! And gosh darn!
Shouldn’t I be thrilled
Riding such a coaster?
But couldn’t I be killed?

Why do I hate
Certain ones?
They hate me,
And kick my buns.

Tricksters all,
Using me as pawn
To fuck with people on
Whom truth won’t dawn.

This isn’t me,
But rather a host
Of alternates,
I’m just a ghost.

Tricky they believe
Themselves to be,
But the trick is
They work for me!

10/13/10