If I Were

Another conjectural work. 


If I were a different man than I turned out,
Someone with different ways, hopes and talents.
A sensibility I would not recognize, could not inhabit,
Not reachable by reason and applied effort.
A whole different world spinning around an almost familiar star.
Where would I start, how would I proceed?
I want to experience the starting point,
To begin the race with my failures undramatized:
Bit players assembling to fill out the scenes,
To take up a starring role again with a new heart,
Impulses acute with different means;
Advantage taken of other entrants, slighted by other actors,
Sudden trauma arranged by other unseen forces.
An inner world regulated with a different Senate,
Elected with priorities I cannot align;
Reason advanced and deposed through another
Altogether too familiar fall.

© ross 2019
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Incorrigibly prone to fail is that what you mean? And why if I got it right it all seems purposeless

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