i want to believe
the light that shines on me
is real
and the sun didn’t burn out
8 minutes ago
that the warmth sent my way
is genuine
and not the figment of
a desparate imagination
slowly freezing to death
in the chill of a world
absent of all the good things
that once brightened his way

but i know this –
a man tends to believe
whatever he wants to believe
despite the consequences;
he shuts his eyes at night
and pretends it’s still the day