My last poem is a total lie,
But that is between just you and I.
I find it quite humiliating,
Not finding love, not the "true thing".
I must ask myself, my beloved friend,
Is awaiting me a bitter end?
I think not, but my desire persists.
It makes me want to clench my fists.
*Sigh* But I can not stay angry,
For that is not the way I am, others, maybe.
But the way I am seems to be wrong,
Is it possible I simply don't belong?
And once again I am sad,
And this feeling does not anything add.
The world screams "GO!" as I scream "STOP!",
And try to think of why I flop.
But thinking about it is so strange,
I'm too self-centered to ever change.
I would rather wait for her,
But is that thought a saboteur?
This is what troubles me,
As my life flies by uncertainly.
If I were ever so to change inclined,
Would it help me to the finish line?
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