I've asked several, and the same as times
Have befallen the unfortunate hearers,
What do you think of me?
What do you think of my life?
Oh, but if there was a cure
For the all too common Christopher
That 36 among the stars somewhere
Beckoning my greatness to manifest,
What a day that would be!
Now, having unmasked the world,
I'm left begging for fulfillment.
What do you think of me?
What do you think my purpose is?
Ah, introspection got the best
Of you and me.
Aren't you worn from all this excitement?
I know I am...haha,
If only there were any to be had.
Once I said that
To be a realist
Is to be a pessimist,
Everyone else ran off,
And my dreams chased them as well.