PM1303036
It strikes me as being so
silly that the end could be as
close as it is but I manage
to steer clear of the precipice
by nothing more than luck.
While wondering how it could
be over so soon I also wonder
how it lasted so long.
So many daring, idiotic choices
that should have ended in complete
disaster instead of just mild failure.
I always envision the failure
before I imagine the success,
and if success ever came out on
top I would be swept away with
the debris.
I wasn't born to succeed and
therefore I can never let myself
down. I can sit still and stare
the present right in the eye,
not react and smile as I begin
to go down with the ship.
I feel the sting of jealousy as I
watch those who took what was
owed them and wallowed in it.
I could have had all that and whether
it was stolen out from under me
or I was too stupid to accept it
makes no difference now.
All those friends they have
could have been mine, they stole
them from me as I was too slow
to catch up and I was left behind
on the wayside,
refusing to believe that I wouldn't
be offered automatic acceptance.
I willingly let it go but I still
feel as though I was robbed.
Revenge?
Not possible, where would I start
and with whom, my name and face
are all but forgotten,
the sheathed sword crashing down
on my face is only a mere memory
to me, surely non-existent
for the one who wielded it.
Yet I can see his face now,
comfortable, smiling, not a tear
or pang of remorse evident.
Forgotten over thirty years ago but I
still feel the pain and the
embarrassment, the laughs, snickers,
clucking of the fucking tongues,
another instance of stolen
pride which I shall never have
returned to me,
because you tossed it out, seconds
after you took it away from me.
MCC
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