Hypothetically he's good,
A nice guy,
Alright face,
Doesn't dress too bad,
And talks at a nice pace,
Well shaped teeth,
Manly feet,
Thick hair,
Subtle tone,
Decent,
with empathy is fair,
To say...


And he knows this,
But they don't tell it,

So he doesn't see shit,
Because he gets no credit,
From the people he wished meant it,
All the would be lovers,
He never got with,
Out of lack of conviction,
The love he never got to give,
Whilst wishing to talk,
Situation came,
And he's lost for words,
A flurry of confused last words,
Followed by apology,
Digging a hole only deeper,
He should just shut up,
And take control,
Instead he digs on,
Logic or reason,
Doesn't have control,
He's lost in his own pattern,

Being clueless kills,
From inside steadily,
It turns into hopelessness,
Until you're no longer free,
From care,
The knowledge is actually there,
He knows it,
But can't act,
It's all very unfair,
He's now a master gravedigger,
With a lost stare,
Wishing that he was there,
Not here,
Trying to avoid,
Painless despair,
It's not that,
Unfair,
He's alright,
He is aware,

But his soul,
Constantly fares worse,
Than the physical part,
Of the pair,

But,
We are not there,
Anymore,
Now I am,
Confident,
Happy,
Despair,
Replaced by more practical,
Woes,
Like,
Where am I going to get the money for a house,
Dog,
Or legacy for my future four,
Beautiful,
Children,
I have yet to have...

Being happy,
Although late,
Is actually,
A tiny bit,
Great.