Reality

10 April 2021 Saturday Poetry Prompt: repeatable

Twenty nine years in alleged reality with nothing to show for it but what I can see in front of me,
And a bunch of stories I can’t even repeat or can’t be bothered trying to complete,
Because I’m stuck in a shell of impenetrable mortality and if I’m being totally honest this reality is boring me,
All I keep hearing is the same three or four stories told to me by the same three or four hundred people I seem to meet
With uncanny frequency,
What’s at the end for me?
When does the good part start in this great cosmic house party?

Caitlin Rebecca

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