He stands by the window
with a view on the world,
his world as he has known
it, his world of imagining,
mostly not his world at all,
out of his control for the
most part, free wheeling,
in reality upside down,
inside and out, turned
around. It took him miles
and miles for him to get
here, and for what? A chance
at yet another day, a different
way, perhaps more of the
same. Most days he accepts
the give and take of what he
gets, no more, no less.
Where was the beginning,
when and where comes
the end? Cynically, he
chuckles at his fate.
The dawning of a new
age. Which mask shall
he don today? Which
roll should he choose
to play, king or a god,
jester or fool for a day?
Me, he thought looking
out the window, today
which
me shall I be?
-30-
Chris Hanch 6-28-2023
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