Whatever I try and do
will never be good enough,
whether it is something planned
or completely off the cuff.
I don’t have to have someone
beat me down
for all I have to do
is look in a mirror to see a clown.
Any ideas I might have
never last too long,
it only takes a short while
for them to realise they don’t belong.
A useless embittered man
I have become
who spends his days drinking
in order to feel numb.
Any hope of redemption
has passed its use by date
now I just catalogue all the things
about myself that I hate.
