was i not destined for great things
would not the sky that daily brings
the rain to earth bring love to me
and happiness for all to see?
alas! my open heart was scorned
i wished that i was never born
sneering hipsters and frowning prudes
conspired to make my journey rude
and every baby step i took
was greeted with a mocking look
and every hopeful word i uttered
was tossed into the nearest gutter
and the epics that i spawned
in my lonely room from dusk to dawn
into which my soul i poured
were totally ignored
and so the glittering smile of bottled drink
with its confidential golden wink
trampled my weak defenses
and robbed me of such senses
as were meet to keep my soul
resolutely towards its goal
and i fell into the pit
which today i have not quit
what is now my destiny?
who is fate to question me?
into oblivion must i sink
without a friend, without a drink?
darkness, lend a hand
to the well and truly damned
who can sit alone upon a beach
with even desperation out of reach
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As I was about to say before my keyboard got totally away from me: Waiter, another cold bock for Horace!