| Written: SEPT 15, 2002 |
There I sit, smart and fit,
Yet without but a wit.
For when it comes to women,
I run away, or merely keep to myself.
What is it that is wrong with me?
Is it the terrible beauties they possess?
Or their grace and personality I am no match for?
Perhaps it is my own happiness I shun or from run…
Why can’t a guy like me,
Approach and be done with it?
After all my pains and hurts in life,
I can’t find one to heal them, nor even attempt.
Oh well, time to go, off to bed,
To the dismal oblivion I endure until morn.
I wish myself luck to the oncoming day,
For I need to be more assertive, I need Hope.
