Me, Myself, And I Poem by M. Bloom

i don't capitalize my name.
that would imply i matter.
and why should i think i matter
when deep down we're all the same?

and i also find it true
that when we are all scattered,
it doesn't even matter
what it is we dreamed we'd do.

for in these dreams i take the blame—
well, in the dreams that matter—
and though my soul's still battered
i find no fault with your claim.

i am not important, true,
and disregarding what you've tattered,
i see now not one thing matters—
at least according to You.