The journey that we make

The journey that we make inside
Is as if a thousand word-eyes look into us,
We are magnetized.
We try to borrow someone else's life,
Sometimes.
We try to catch crumbs of emotion
From someone else's plate,
And if they fall from high tables
Into our laps,
We  purr like cats
And are mystified.
All poets are liars 
Twice removed from reality".
But my own star shines bright to me.
So if Hume's 
The elephant in my room,
Then I don't care if
All poets are liars.