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Don’t score with girls no more

Bit of a bore.

I find life a chore.

I could sleep with a whore,

And get STDs.

Instinct tells me

If this doesn’t kill me,

It will make me stronger,

But I am a stranger

To myself.

I have a limited shelf life,

My sell by date already passed.

Mom took thalidomide.

It helps with morning sickness.

I wasn’t born defective.

That was down to me,

And I find myself

Mixed with controversy.

Good guy, bad guy.

Quick shag or marry.

I have a second skin,

Maybe a dozen more.

The difference is thin.

My implosion,

In slow motion,

I see every day.

I understand the agony,

My mental state

Can fluctuate,

From joy

To utter despair.

I thought this was

How every one felt,

But I was dealt

A card of chance.

It had your image on it,

So I looked for romance.

Like a stray dog seeking a home

And when it doesn’t happen

You cry to your soul.

My tears are private,

Even alone.

A scavenger of life,

Like an hyena.

I could not say it plainer,

Still a stranger

To my life.

Published inAddictions & LustHealth & WealthLooking at YouLove & No LovePast & FutureSeeing Within & Without