Poet leaps from
Ego Center to Ego Left,
inflates himself
in the process,
has a soft landing.

Right Ego feels hurt,
ego tears emerge –
they can’t be seen
but you know that if pain
had a color, it
would be similar.

Poet strokes Right Ego,
asks for understanding…
-Hey, Right…
I don’t have favorites –
You, and Center and Left,
you’re all my favorite egos.
All of us together,
we’re one big ego!

So let’s follow
the ego brick road
to the intersection of
Me, Myself and I Avenues
and it’ll feel just like home.

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