Dealing With It - A Poem

If I could write
a poem a day,
what would it require?
A better imagination,
that would be good
for a start.

I'm not sure
what I might say,
but that's okay.
I never know
what to expect,
when the eruption
from within begins.

I should disengage
from worldly concerns,
step back and take roll call
of all my other feelings.
But there is no time
for silliness like that.

This is life!
Me and no one else.
You need not interfere.
Take a number,
sit down and wait
'til I'm ready.

I feel less than apt,
entirely unfocused,
and distracted.
For nearly a month.
I've been in free fall
without a safety net.

I seek answers,
but nothing comes.
A glimmer of hope
would be nice.
But all I see
are more illusions.

As always,
It is left to me.
Save the day
or the world -
whatever is
captured between.

I wish I had
some of the answers
to the questions
we both have
spinning around
in our minds.

But, at least,
you can appreciate
the confusion I have.
This is not the point
or the purpose.
It's not the end.

Regardless what I do,
reality awakens me.
This is all there is.
So, for what it's worth,
I take a deep breath.
I'm dealing with it.