If then
If then I were as now I find Myself, regrettably, to be— Again interred, allowing blindness Stealthily to plead Its case— Debased in every thought, And chased from what I sought So earnestly before— Would this have seemed more real, Because the symptoms rang so true— Much more than they did then? Or would weakness make surreal, Or make appear untrue The truth—and me, a comedienne? January 13, 2006 Washington DC Age 24 © Talya Sara Emery Sign in to see full entry.