Moderation
by Sam M. Phillips

I judge myself unworthy,
I smudge my vision dirty,
I’m hurting,
Unable to save myself,
No one else can help either,
But I’m a survivor,
A diver,
Down into the subconscious,
I dredge up symbols,
The stuff of dreams,
And fill reams of paper,
Later I look back
And attack my work,
I’m such a jerk,
Lurk to one side,
Hide ready to pounce,
Take an ounce of flesh,
Fresh meat to eat,
Complete vicious cycle
As I go up and down,
I’ve found I’m either grandiose
Or totally lost,
Worth too much
Or tossed away,
Need to find a way
To middle ground,
I’ve found poetry to help,
Drugs make it worse,
Source of rollercoaster,
I need to bolster my defences,
Not knock them flat,
I’ve had enough of that,
No high road,
No low road,
I’m normal,
Original,
But ordinary,
Need to be wary
Of both highs and lows,
Both are blows
Delivered by my ego,
It knows
How to manipulate,
Lately I’ve noticed him more,
Watched him keep score
Of my successes and failures,
All lures to identify with him,
Swim in a sea of better and worse,
I need to converse with a higher source,
Find a course away from my ego,
Know I am one,
I run away from judgement,
It is endless torment,
To my detriment,
Need to vent
It all out,
I shout,
I’m alive,
I should strive
For peace of mind,
Be kind to myself,
I’m struggling with existence,
But by persistence
I get along,
I am strong,
Not a god,
But not a worm,
I need to learn moderation,
And reality,
Whatever that is.

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