Everyone’s Internal Victor

You get so disappointed,
Since invested heavily
In your imagined futures,

When what happens isn’t close
To what you had imagined.
As imagination is,

And only can be, cobbled
Together from memories
Broken down and rearranged,

Any rehearsed, imagined
Outcome becomes memory
Itself, so memory-like

That it seems to have happened,
Being made of memories,
Fragmented experience.

You didn’t just fool yourself,
Happily imagining
Something that would never be—

You truly recollected,
Out of sequence, as collage,
The creature’s past, poetry.