A mine for “unobtanium”
At Clark’s Trading Post,
In mid-state of New Hampshire
May have coined the term first…
But he has ore of his
Named just the same,
It isn’t mined but “isn’t mine”
Part of a mental game!
–
He thinks he needs people
Whom he’ll never meet,
Who’ll be good examples
Of folks on which he’s sweet…
Based solely on peripherals
Not likely face-to-face,
It’s a sort of warped reality
In reality’s place!
–
He’ll focus on a particular
Feature or a style,
To generalize fantasy
To generate a smile…
If he’d just be more comfortable
with real people nearby,
He would not have to pretend
With a tearful eye!
–
We hope he learns to wake up
And seek out friendships real,
Not shallow generated
Images to feel,
In all his isolation
He’s held onto a few,
Who aren’t just fuzzy figments
With no living to do.
–
He’s getting so long-winded
I’m sure few understand,
The shadows around him–
He is a lonely man–
Apparently has not grown up
But will harshly criticize,
While missing opportunity
Right before his eyes!
–
–J.E.C.
By the Mighty Mumford 