The Book of How it Should Have Been
The Book of How it Should Have Been

I.
Sitting, reading, discovering things
I never knew could be,
only dreamed of
lonely on cold winter 
Nights.

The World is out there,
I discovered, and I 
can conquer it! All I need
are my thoughts, my dreams,
My big ideas of how to do 
things.

So I dreamed, I thought,
I planned, all on the same nights,
Once lonely, now filled with possibilities,
warm ideas, and plans.

Finally, the world was ready 
for me.
I set out, just me and my 
big ideas, plans, and 
Reality be damned!

II.
How quickly did it all fall apart!
Circumstance, fate, destiny, or chance
intervened. Not destroying,
but putting on hold
while I made one more discovery:
I had been reading not
The Book of How Things Will be,
I had been reading a book
that I had wrote myself:
The Book of How it Should Have Been.

III.
The Book of How it Should have been.
A book I had written for myself,
to convince myself that this is 
How things should be, this is
How things will be.
All wrong.

IV.
So now I am left,
A victim of my own making,
drifting from thought to thought,
place to place, dream to dream,
Feeling to feeling.
A victim of my own making,
But not my own fault.
The fault is not in ourselves,
But in our stars,
Not in our stars, but in ourselves,
or rather some strange mixture of
The Book of How Things Will Be, and
The Book of How It Should Have Been.

-Written in late 1996, best as I can tell.

Bonus haiku!

This poem is not all
that original but it
is a real haiku.

The Writing Page


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