Wondering really what

success is and what failure is

A lot of the daily grind

is to be expected


I wake up every morning

(though sometimes it doesn’t

feel that way)

and go about my business

with my only uniqueness being

the way I hold my pen


An old friend says
“I went for the position

you said I could do

and I got it.”


Now he’s making 100K a year

and has a nice blonde wife

with a nice blonde pussy

and drives a Mercedes-Benz


and me—


I must be a fool

cause I’m still here


another girl I knew

has her own business

after I encouraged her

to get it started


Occasionally she sees me

and says

“You didn’t want to marry me.”

counting her money

as she wiggles her tight ass

walking away from me


I could be pissed but

I still don’t want to marry her

I praise Jah every night

that I found the strength

to not walk off that plank


Many others I’ve known have blazed

past me on the trail of success

and all I hear about day and night

is how much fucking potential I have


and no one stops to think

about how lucky I am just

to be alive and still kicking out

these obnoxious poems


and besides happily ever after

never did really exist

as many of these people

have ultimately learned


My girl with her own business

filed for bankruptcy

and still has no husband

or steady man


and my buddy with the 100K a year job

has a nice blonde wife

with a nice blonde pussy

who thinks a poor hungry poet

is better in bed than her old man


and though I’m a little demented

from wear and tear the smile is still

firmly entrenched on my face


and though I gain no pleasure in sorrow

and misfortune I do stop

a few minutes to ponder who has

really the fool all along


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