When
You lose
You are the villain in the public eyes!
Who do they make their ideal?
Only you when you are hero after winning the next day!

I looked for honesty at many places!
When I found thousands of rupees near the bus stop
It was standing beside me!

Two fishing poles, a feather,
a leather jacket with holes
on both elbows, forty-four
dollars and change in
an envelope, some dope,
a pair of worn out cowboy boots,
a clay flute shaped like a bird
that can't whistle a tune worth a lick,
an unused bus ticket, a picture
of two kids laughing pretending
to fly; an eyelash in my eye.

ON SEEING ONE ON A LADY’S BONNET AT CHURCH

Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie!
Your impudence protects you sairly:
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and lace;
Tho’ faith, I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.

Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,
Detested, shunned by saunt an’ sinner,
How daur ye set your fit upon her,
Sae fine a lady!
*** somewhere else and seek your dinner,
On some poor body.

Swith, in some beggar’s haffet squattle;
There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle
Wi’ ither kindred, jumpin cattle,
In shoals and nations;
Whare horn or bane ne’er daur unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now haud ye there, ye’re out o’ sight,
Below the fatt’rels, snug an’ tight;
Na faith ye yet! ye’ll no be right
Till ye’ve got on it,
The vera tapmost, towering height
O’ Miss’s bonnet.

My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,
As plump an’ grey as onie grozet:
O for some rank, mercurial rozet,
Or fell, red smeddum,
I’d gie ye sic a hearty dose o’t,
*** dress your droddum!

I *** na been surprised to spy
You on an auld wife’s flainen toy;
Or aiblins some bit duddie boy,
On’s wyliecoat;
But Miss’s fine Lunardi!—fie!
How daur ye do’t?

O Jenny, dinna toss your head,
An’ set your beauties a’ abread!
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blastie’s makin!
Thae winks and finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin!

O, *** some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as others see us!
It *** frae monie a blunder free us
An’ foolish notion:
What airs in dress an’ gait *** lea’e us,
And ev’n Devotion!

nor very cool to feel for every ***** or beggar or
low-life
there are just a multitude of them to cry over

it doesn't pay me a ******* cent
walking to town to watch the whorish
wave down traffic

angry is a bit of what I gnaw on
the gum of **** that makes me gag
almost or puke or wanna ****

any mother who allows their child,
yes we all, even the low cast out **** bottom
basement ******* for a dime ****** ***** got one

lets her child become this , **** her  **** yes
******* the *******,
******* the dripping *****

that walked away tucking their ***** of brains
back into their shorts onto the streets , oh what hustlers what
cruel ******* idiots

even them, even those ***** donor dead souls,
it is too much to feel for,
etc....

the heart feels a gypsy
the mind a vagabond
the eyes get misty
by the lilies in the pond

bloom the petals pinkish
smudged with streaks of white
swaying slow by wind's kiss
glory displayed bright

upon the slender neckline
crowns of innocent smiles
fill all dark with sunshine
wipe out weary miles

o traveler feel the invite
merrily pause to respond
be a while in sunlight
among the lilies of the pond

I am not one to treat a beast decent
but I've fed that demon as of recent
this creature eats my peaceful pieces
with hate increased, my whole decreases

You know those moments
where you just feel so
worthless
for no reason.
Like out of the
blue
the entire world
comes crashing
d
o
w
n
even though you were
feeling perfectly fine
the minute before.

All of a sudden
someone calls you over
or asks for you
and you realize you're so
angry
and there's so much just
bubbling inside
and it comes out.

Except it's not what you expect.

All of a sudden
you find yourself feeling so
tired
and
weak
and all you want to do
is lay down and
dig yourself a hole.

All of a sudden
you want to be buried
but not die.

Every time you breathe,
you feel all of this
anguish
deep in the pit
of your stomach and
in the centre of your chest
and it makes you want to
claw your insides out.

But you don't want to die
because somewhere
deep
deep
inside your mind
you enjoy it.

You enjoy
this sadness
and this pain
and these tears
and all the hurt.
The hurt that makes you
want to disappear
and hide away
and run
and sleep
and fall
and curl up
all at once.

All of a sudden
you're so worthless
so meaningless
and you...
You're not even sure
how you feel
you're just angry
and annoyed
and sad
and everything.

It's so much,
and you can't even register
what's happening.

You just lie there
and enjoy the feeling
in the centre of your chest
and in the pit of your stomach.

You lie there
and do nothing.
Nothing
because that's all
you can do
and all you amount to.
Nothing.