My Shit (standard:poetry, 301 words)
Author: Leonard Becker	Added: Dec 16 2000	Views/Reads: 3216/2	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
My shit in lyrical form (not fecal shit)

I feel guilty 

Sick and rotting-and I'm growing to understand how very not real I am. 

I've always done my best to fight the stereotypes placed on me, 

Tried to be anything but the man you hear girls complaining of. 

But as of late, I've grown to realize that I am just one of those guys. 

I don't sleep around or anything as such, 

Or cheat or hit or anything as such, 

But I might as well. 

I lie 

And even worse-I lie without knowledge. 

A cheater is better than me, because at least he knows and is aware. 

I think I think of women as accessories to me, 

As what they can do for me 

As what people will think of me 

With her. 

I mean well 

And have the best intentions, 

But you know what they say about that... 

I told myself I loved the girl from Detroit 

For her beauty and wit and whatever else, 

But I didn't. 

I liked her only in terms of how she affected me 

Of how she could love me-not how I could love her. 

How can that be good? 

How can I be a good man? 

I liked her because, 

I hoped she'd like me 

And then I could be the envy of the viking and the albino and the
art-house freaks, 

Because what are we without the admiration of others? 

Is there anything in our lives that can be important without someone
else at the very least, liking it? 

No, there isn't. 

Not love nor work nor art nor even death. 

And I hoped she would be my appendage, 

And she won't. 

And I don't want to see her, because it hurts and I am shit. 

This is about her, I admit it. 

Even then, 

I lie. 

It's about me again. 


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