When you look around

When you look around,
please tell me you are honest,
What is it that you see?
With an intake of breath, or a subtle sound,
A sun going up or sinking somewhere west,
Do you truly believe it is anything real?

Do you not wake up,
Look round and doubt
Are you not a dream or a game?
Surely, a world must be more than a cup
Of tea? Than a gulp of air, a pair
Of gloves, a walk around,
Or doing much the same.
Every day?

Do you too think and see
All but a house of puppets and marionettes,
And a surface of wheels, and schemes, and a simple net?
What a suprise indeed, if it be a fraction of truth,
A fractured being, full of fools,
A beautiful dream full of spines,
Some body's not a very successful line,
An image in an overexcited brain?

Oh, yes, the Matrix might still turn out
a piece of this broken chain.

When you look around,
Please tell me you do not feel  for real,
What I am dreaming
In this every-daymare of mine.