Everything is good.
I smile at the beauty of my gift, the perfection of a singular rose
filling the whole room.  A cornucopia
of possibility shines through the window
like the sun and, through it, I see a cheerful mutt.
Then I feel my old enemy grab hold of my future: doubt.

This always happens. It always ends in the midst of my debilitating doubt.
Everything was going so good.
The cacophony of barking, the spiteful cries of an angered mutt,
start. The world focuses on the wilting rose.
The sky darkens to a depressing gray outside the window
and the feeling of emptiness invades until the only thing left is a hollow cornucopia.

What happened to my cornucopia?
Why am I plagued with this doubt?
I lost my only window
of opportunity long ago. My life was supposed to be good
and plentiful and now it's over. I was stupid to think a rose
could be anything more than a horrific reminder. I'm a worthless mutt.

All I'll ever be is a worthless mutt.
I offer absolutely nothing, a whole cornucopia
of nothing. I don't deserve this rose.
I deserve my world of fear and doubt.
I am not worthy of love. I am not good
enough for him. I could have been something, but I missed that window.

I bet he can see right through me. He can see the useless window
I have always been.  I scrounge like a starving mutt
and still use escapes me. He'll do better without me. He'll have a good
life if I'm not in it. He deserves the freaking Cornucopia,
not me. I'm a manifestation of constant doubt
and sorrow and I just bring people down. I could never properly thank him for the rose.

I could never be his. His love. His perfect rose.
I'm not his reflection in the mirror. I'm the broken window
that lets in all the rain. I will always have doubt
to keep me down. I will always be the homeless mutt
with no one to love them.  This empty cornucopia
can't be filled. I'm not any good.

The rose continues to die. I will the screaming mutt
to quiet down through the window.  I weave my cornucopia
of doubt while my face pretends everything is good.