There's No 'Me' Left

Here's a poem I wrote last night.  It's probably not very good but here it is anyway.

There’s no me left

Just a procession of transitory roles

That I adopt to fit in

A friend to one

A counsellor to another

A wise man or a fool

Nothing but a human chameleon

There are many Is in my life but

There’s no me left.

There’s no me left

Me got lost in the shuffle

I traded me for disposable facades

To be a part of a normal life

That me could never be a part of

I can be fun to be with

A jester or a fool

But the corrosion of life worked away inside until

There’s no me left.

There’s no me left

I’m defined by the company I’m in

A hollow man without a soul

Superficially alive but merely existing

Awaiting each real soul

To define what I should be

Then just as quickly losing it

And I begin to realise that

There’s no me left.

© Myles Cook, 12/11/2010