i was born wanted but for the wrong reasons
with a mind marked to be ill
thrown into the wilderness of a foreign country
with not even a common language to call home
i am loved but i am placed in the wrong season
built in the summer but living in the cold
by happenstance the unwilling champion
but only of the loser's side
the air i breathe is borrowed but bound for oblivion
it is a consolation that at least to the earth i am a reward
even if i die in my treason of life

Your pain
Your disappointments
Your losses
Your mistakes
Then the rain stops
Storms end
Rainbows appear
Hopefully the dark clouds  become the Bluest  of skies

Truth is,
As cliche as my opinion may seem.
I'm stubborn but in a unique way.
I've lost a lot to be particular in my hesitations.
I've been through enough disappointment to know better.
But the truth is,
I'm more afraid of losing me in someone who wouldn't love me for me.

I suppose it’s a good thing
That I don’t gamble
Because I would’ve lost it all
Betting on us

When I was
younger,
I had to learn.
Sit and wait to
write.
I  would get
impatient and force it.
If you read it,
you could tell.

Now I’m quite a bit older, and
I quit trying.
Fodder seems to be
everywhere.
I can write about
the most mundane
things.

Today I’m at the
library waiting for my
girlfriend to
finish up at the dentist.
She’s getting her
teeth cleaned.
All my drinking ruined
my teeth.
When I got them
pulled a year ago,
there wasn’t a
healthy tooth in my head.
I have dentures now, so
I don’t have to
worry about how much I drink.
I know this isn’t a
good poem, but
hey,
there she is
all shiny and bright…
and sober.