The Broken Compass

Another Poem that I wrote a few hours ago...

My thoughts betray me
I cannot seem to get
over my own set
of thoughts that always
come to conclusions
Is what I am seeing and feeling real
or just well placed illusions?
My mind is grasping for straws
searching for a needle in a stack called hope
but even hope can be false
when my thoughts betray me
since I fail to see
what others perceive
in their truth, but what about me?
What about you?
My mind screams because it is exhausted
of riding shotgun when
my heart is driving this
cash for clunker of a life
that needs to be fixed or
maybe it just needs to be replaced
by a newer, sleeker life
one that never breaks down
one that can be ridden all night
one that can be loved and polished
Will you give me cash for my clunker?
or will you trade in my clunker
for a newer life?
perhaps one where my mind
does not betray me
where i don't have a life
of confusion and doubt
maybe the driver needs to be
replaced with an automatic pilot
that can plot a course
through the potholes and steep hills
without crashing or going
off course on my way to
my life's destination
The only problem is Google Maps
cannot get me there
No Tom Tom or GPS can pinpoint it
my unknown destination is somewhere
between Syracuse and New York City
between Yankee Stadium and Citifield
My heart is driving this clunker
with a compass that does not point north.