Observation #6

Poem based on internal observation.

Sometimes I feel like I'm here, but I'm not, 

suspended in time's weird indefinite pathways 

I am not here in my history class, all about Chicago,

I am somewhere else, somewhere in a space 

I don't know of the space besides the fact that I live in it, 

what is reality? Reality is something so surreal 

I need answers, but I have no questions because I am still aware, 

even if that awareness is suspended in time's weird indefinite pathways 

Author's Note

Feedback appreciated!