Lines behind lines

One might wonder 
Why I write like this
Contradictory ideas
And so vague notions

But my poetry is just me
It's all that's true in me
In my real life I'm lousy
I have sold myself totally

There's a job, but its a job
Parents are my parents
Friends are like friends
But that's all they are

Poetry is my commune
With my inner true self
Its my only meditation
And it's foggy reflection

Rest of me, most of me
Is feeble, vain, affected
I just live like I'm dead
Struggling for morsels