I am at a loose end,
I must have gone off the bend,
I am shrieking inside,
My need messes my pride;
The fear of rejection so last century,
Still haunts the heart of me;
I’m tired of blaming the father,
With all the epithets I can gather;
Thirty seven is too old,
For desire not to be sold
Into the hands of the young,
Or into the pants of the hung.
I am adrift in a sea of doubt,
Without a cock in my mouth,
For love has turned into sacrifice
And there is too much fat in rice.
I sit quietly dealing with screams,
As others talk to me of their dreams,
I stop at a loose end,
And all I do is pretend
To ignore the loudest scream
From my own broken dream.