These days,
I find myself reaching out.

Reaching out for love,
Reaching out for 'like'.

Reaching out for anything
That can make me feel whole.

Reaching out for
the feel of hands that caress;
creating hope,
dispelling hopelessness.

...If only for a while.

Excuse me,
Mister Optimist.
I prefer not to be called
A pessimist.
Because a realist
Realizes
His situation.
And mine is always
Very grim.

So how am I a pessimist,
For learning from the past
Of this..?

I'm sure you're all disappointed.

I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.
But I'm not perfect,
I'm not royal,
I'm not handsome.

I'm noble,
yes.
But nobility gets you nowhere.

I'm sure someone blew things out of proportion.

I am flawed.
I am poor.
I am ugly.

The closest I get to a royal decree,
is raising my pen or pencil in hand,
like a scepter,
in triumph of an accomplishment,
either in word or in art.

I am ugly.
I am poor.
I am flawed.
I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.

And I'm sure you're all disappointed.

If you could invest in me,
Would you make me more valuable?

If you brought out the best in me,
Would you make me more valuable?

If you were part of my destiny,
Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

If I held my breath for you,
Would it make me more valuable?

If I lied to make you true,
Would it make me more valuable?

If everything, I would let you do,
Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

She said I was perfect.
Then why did she leave?

She said I was perfect.
Then why did she cheat?

She said I was perfect.
Then why am I flawed?

She said I was perfect?

She said I was perfect.

Perfectly fitting to leave.
Perfectly suitable to use.
Perfectly cut to wear on your finger.

Isn't it perfect,
that imperfections are perfect?

Thank God,
The bar for perfection is so low.

Or I might be perfectly alone now.

...

I am?

Isn't that perfect?

Unlucky
i am a black cat
who has his path crossed by another

Unlucky
i walk under ladders
i had once tried to climb
just to fall back down
to where i am now

Unlucky
i look for hope
like a piece of hay
in a needlestack
and i'm stuck with all the pins

Unlucky
i look on my reflection
in the mirror of my mind
which my ugly sadness shatters

Seven Years More...
Seven Years More...

i beg for a lucky charm,
my 'lucky rabbit's foot'.

Nobody Cares
anymore.
Nobody Cares
about my feelings.

I wouldn't expect Anybody to.

Nobody Thinks
I am worth their time.
Nobody Thinks
That my words matter.
Nobody Thinks
I have a great mind.

And, Nobody Thinks
I can make anything right.
Nobody Thinks
I have a romantic bone in my body.
Nobody Thinks
I can sweep them off their feet.

Three cheers to Nobody, whoever they are.

Nobody Thinks
I can stand up for myself.
Nobody Thinks
I can stand up for my friends.
Nobody Loves
the way I sit by myself, secluded.
Nobody Loves
the way that I write my feelings,
rather than lash out in anger.

I don't love Nobody.

But, Nobody sure seems to love me.

I feel like that everyday.

Abandoned.

Like a stray.

Not that I hadn't worked.

Not that I hadn't deserved.

Not that I hadn't earned
my share of happiness.

But that people were too busy
looking to be happy
with the happy
than trying to bring happiness
to the unhappy.

Some people get more than they deserve.

Other people get less.

Love unevenly spread
can cause an unsightly mess.