Down and most definitely out
There’s a fierce streak of jealousy mustering on up inside of me
For the little things that I lost, things that I never got to do
Few will truly know it, but I was once far more than just a poet
A personality, a flow that meandered people inwards
A handsome face that managed to turn many a ladies face for a while
Make ’em smile wholeheartedly, think twice… how very nice
Now no more than a mouldy piece of brown bread left upon the shelf
Crass and depressing comparisons
Bitter, seemingly no more, no less than an outright quitter
Filling my time, lessening it with copious packs of cigarettes
No real regret ‘cos I did nothing
Absolute putty in every bully’s hand
I really do wish I could say that my life turned out grand