A happy troubled man
Once entered an office
Yelling at the other himself
Over the acts of betrayal
Which his other self had performed
Against him
His other self would reside at the office
Launching fistfuls of carefully crafted misery
At what really constituted
Merely another side of the same being
So the happy troubled man grew tired
"Show me where fairness rests," he said
"For I can only see a mosaic of
Highly inappropriately designed instances of existence
Yourself being the co-author of one of them...
You have, my ingrown pest, been cutting
the branch upon which you have been sitting"
"You and I are not the same
You and I are not one
I am the core and you are the wing
You are optional
And I can detach you
But you cannot breathe without me"
His other self sat there silently
For I, the author, have not permitted him to speak
But where initially the most vile smile had nested
There then appeared the transition
Toward the utmost despair of the tormentor
For he was not told some divinely granted revelation
But the most obvious of truths
The knowledge of which he had been subduing within himself
And suppressing in the happy troubled man
Not every fool is a fool
But the other self was both
The other self cried:
"Today was not a good day"
...and dissipated
