Playing Pretend With A Friend Poem by Patti Masterman

I think he is a hero
Somewhere inside his own mind,
But hidden from his outward consciousness

Though he might fool himself for a day or a week
Pretend to go toward the fallen parts-
Lose control of himself, call out your name
For a fortnight, but then recollect
The things, he can never be free of;

Ties he disparages, and yet tediously keeps re-tying
As though he needed protecting
From his own tendency, to wander

He will set himself anew, on the straight-and-narrow
And only flirt with the formal predicaments of danger;
Being tied struggling on the railroad tracks
Handcuffed in the water-filled phone booth

An amateur stuntman who has to make of his life
Whatever dagger’s-head excitement he can find,
But see- he makes his escape again and again;
He always emerges unscathed, Houdini-like

It's but a game, that he plays with self-
And at the end, loneliness turns out to be his only friend-
And it’s only you, have become unbelievable.