A Style Our Lives Bring With Them

Do we choose the life we lead
Or are they habits our personalities embrace?
Do we choose who we are
And how we are seen?
At meetings of old friends
Such questions (for me)
Are brought to the fore:
Their marriages, children and so on
And my solitary existence.
In life I often feel as though I am
In the driving seat but not consciously
Aware of my destination:
Looking round my home
Where I live, alone,
The pictures, the ornaments, the mess
It’s all me
Projected everywhere
And I’m powerless for it
To be any other way-
Or so it seems.
I’m an introvert
Yet cling emotionally and practically
To other people
In scenarios I wouldn’t quite choose
But from which I feel unable to
Break from.

MDC

NB:  The title is from a line in the poem "Dockery and Son" by Philip Larkin, which explores similar themes.