My hands are vacant of beneficial qualities
and none shall match the failure
I am inevitably doomed to hold.
I have the titles that prove, beyond all reason,
I am the executor of this ruined testament,
and because of this, I shall be cast
into a room of faceless mannequins
by those who once loved me,
so I might discover the nothingness
I later meant to them.
Unlike so many, there is no paramour
awaiting me at a future junction,
and the empty highway
I call my existence shall remain
closed off to all.
If only I wasn’t an agnostic,
there would always be a higher power
I could accuse of vandalizing my many dreams.
Instead, I ought to really blame myself
for no other party is responsible,
and only I can honorably accept
the failure that is my life till now.
This egotistical trash I pretend
is writing deserves to be on trial,
for it is a mandated law,
enforced by the hands of the writer’s guild,
that only pieces dusted down
and beautiful, deserve the limelight.
Perhaps I don’t deserve this oxygen,
or the vacancy these words are set upon?
Moreover, perhaps I am unworthy
of the right to waste a reader’s time
with pointless words depicting a tireless struggle,
but I truly must admit,
if a woman were to say you’re the one
I’ve been waiting for, it wouldn’t matter
if she were standing in front of me,
or on the other side of a volcano;
I would do whatever it took to make certain
she were in my arms by evening.
Derek Childs, 29th January
I watch the Chinese dating show If You Are the One. Two nights ago there was a gentleman who, after a young woman admitted he was the man she’d been waiting for, decided against leaving with her, insisting there were other male suitors she ought to choose. Although perhaps this sentiment is honorable, I also felt it was really foolish, for the goal of the experience is to (hopefully) acquire a date, rather than leave alone because there are other men who are potentially more deserving of an opportunity. Thus because of that, I was inspired to make this poem which, come to think of it, kind of lacks any form of rational sense. Sorry ’bout that guys. Thanks for reading! 😀