The Life Of His Mind Poem by Eillio Imbasciati

Not in a position to call his own shots
So he's shot down,
Taking shots
Belly warm, but the brain is slurred,
Feels so cold there in the cerebral cortex
Sometimes it takes the passage of time for something to find its comfortable place,
But nothing roomy in this space, none whatsoever
Since the day he became cognizant,
The life of his mind has been one big nightmare,
So he's dreaming if that will change