A Paradox?

I give up.

I wash these bloody hands,

Stained with Hope,

For the final time.

– Or at least, I hope I do.

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.

 

 

Taken in

Where do I begin?

Perhaps, I’ll start with the dream that took me in,

And then perhaps I’ll take it on the chin,

That when reality did set in,

My pride did wear thin.

 

Although being infatuated,

Is no reason to be castigated.

I can’t but feel humiliated,

For being so fascinated.

 

I wish I could say,

That I was never sucked in this way;

That my dignity was always on display,

And that I, on the better side of obsession, did stay.

 

My head has always pleaded for common sense,

Although my heart was hypnotized by your presence.

But I can’t keep making a fool of myself, hence –

To stop dreaming, is of utmost importance.

 

Now, I finally hope to start anew,

And to finally resist thinking of you.

Here’s to hopefully, bidding you ‘Adieu’.

― From the admirer, you never knew.

 

                                                                                                      

 

 

 

Who can love me?

Who can love me as I am?

Who can love this pale imitation of a man?

Who out there is willing to say:

“As you are, please stay.”?

Who is blind enough to take on the task,

Of rebuilding the shattered pieces of glass,

That once formed the mirror of my content,

But now is just the source of my constant lament?

Who is she, so fair, that would give me a chance?

Where is she, the one, that can my worthiness enhance?

 

Unused

There are words I can never say,

Since you’ve faded away from me,

They will ever remain unused,

Though they can be, my only gift to thee.

Each night I dream alone,

I toss and turn, restless in this empty home,

Although I don’t want it to be this way,

I cannot change things, until I find the courage to say –

The words which will forever on you be unused,

The words meant for a lover, but limited to the muse.