"And all the while,
I realise the self is a prison we craft.
All the while, I feel the backdraft
of a thousand thinkers,
all drinking from hope’s chalice,
all drowning in struggles,
all winding the cogs,
all setting alarms,
all building ideas like charms,
repeated in the silence behind the eyes
I realise they’re all me and I’m them and we are we."
Unquote: You managed to capture so much reality here. It's like we're all just drifting around in someone else's reality, yet, it's our own. Great job with this poem all round. It was absolutely captivating from the get go!