Smitten

Yes, I’ll admit I was smitten,

And that by the love bug I was bitten,

But tales of romance are never written,

For us ugly ogres – who don’t fit in.

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Unworldly

In the early stages of my Life’s construction,

I would unwittingly press the button,

Of Self-Destruction.

I did this when I could never find,

The Self-Confidence,

To bring me any peace of mind.

Since this confidence remains elusive,

And its lacking still an obstruction,

I can’t but help remain reclusive,

Until I bring about my Life’s reconstruction.

I could never have foretold,

That by merely feeling unworthy,

Such damage would unfold,

Such damage that’s proving- unworldly.

 

I’m Tired

I’m sick and tired,

Of feeling sick and tired.

Is all this merely a result of how my brain is wired?

Or is this malaise somehow acquired,

Or perhaps a result of some plot, conspired?

I yearn for relief from this state, undesired.

For how much longer must I feel like an entity, expired?

Blot

Might she be able to love me,

If I obtain perfection?

For surely I am unworthy,

To even the most lenient of perception.

Why would anyone settle for less?

Why would anyone settle for the mess,

That I am?

Can I ever be admired,

For where I am?

Can I ever be loved,

For what I am?

For even my yearning,

Doesn’t make up,

For what I’m not.

And it cannot replace,

What I haven’t got.

And it doesn’t avail,

The blot – that is me.

 

 

Changing Seasons

Winter’s arriving,

And a part of me is glad.

Though when one season comes,

The other must depart,

Which usually leaves me feeling sad.

This Summer’s progress though has been but few,

And I know Winter leaves little chance to start anew.

The Summer was filled with sunshine,

But without much rain,

Which made progress a pain,

And since something was lacking,

I hardly made a gain.

So I enter Winter still searching for missing pieces,

But should I hope for what I’m looking for,

In the season when almost everything decreases?

 

 

 

 

 

The pros and cons of being a loner

Being a loner can mean freedom and imprisonment,

That’s because it has its good points and bad points.

Being a loner means there’s no one there to judge you,

But there’s also no one there to comfort you.

There’s no one there to kick you while you’re down,

Buy there’s also no one there to pick you up from the ground.

There’s no one there to laugh at you,

But also no one there to laugh with.

There’s no one there to make you cry,

But there’s also no shoulder to cry on.

There’s no one around to condemn you,

But no one around to advise you.

There’s no one around to take advantage of you,

But no one around to be devoted to.

There ain’t no one to cause you annoyance,

But there ain’t no one to grant you solace.

There ain’t no one to pick at your flaws,

But there ain’t no one to sing your praises.

There’s nobody there to cause you to frown,

But there’s nobody there to turn a frown upside down.

There’s certainly no one about to harm you,

But certainly no one about to protect you.

There’s isn’t anyone to question you,

But there isn’t anyone to seek answers from.

Ultimately, being alone means there’s no one to fear,

But ultimately, it also means there’s no one to love.

 

 

Yearning

I’m in need,

Of a little love,

A little attention.

I could really use,

Some comfort,

Some affection.

But I understand,

That few are attracted,

To those,

With many limitations.

When it comes to love,

The destitute rarely receive,

Any satisfaction.