Now I've lost the fabric of my dreams
It's drifted away through the unsown seams
Why can't I envision anymore
Whatever it was I'm still looking for?

And though my friends might never have guessed
I've done so much that needs to be confessed
I'm blind to the me that others see
Unworthy of the trust thrust upon me

And trapped within the endless phony seams
The essence of my art and of my dreams
Would I be better off without them
To be without a single apothegm?

07/04/1987

Author's Note: This was a lost period of my life. Most of what I remember of my 20's is not actual memories, but from reading my poetry and prose from that time. Had I not written so much, I'm not sure if I would have any idea what I did from about age 20 until I turned 32.

Posted on 10/19/2005
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