This body of me,
Called Jeffrey,
Does not care to be,
In the Chaos and Anarchy,
Of this state of Psyche,
Called Humanity.
This body of me,
Called Jeffrey,
Would rather be,
With the body of me,
That was known as Kevin,
In a place called Psyche Heaven.
This body of me,
Called Jeffrey,
Where within the Psyche,
It may dwell,
This body cannot tell,
But to me,
It seems to be,
Some sort of Psychic Hell.
This body of me,
Called Jeffrey,
Says that any reality,
Of Humanity,
Is Puppetry,
Of the Psyche,
Known as me,
Whatever that may be.
The puppet of me,
Called Jeffrey,
Can see,
That some of me,
Will disagree,
With the commentary,
That all is Illusionary.
Now, if all is a dream, who is the dreamer some of me may ask,
The answer to that, it seems to me, is a self-appointed task.