I can fix this, you’ll see.
The best always starts badly,
The dry and handsome starts wet and small.
If you didn’t start as a little shit you wouldn’t be here at all.
I can fix this. The self-correcting is the whole
Spirit of harmony in the arts, social relations, the soul.
Young, I got drunk, to be that bull, to find that cow.
Now I avoid people, and don’t get drunk. I’m different now.
When I was young, I wrote poetry, but didn’t converse.
Now I talk poetry. And it keeps getting worse.
But wait, getting worse isn’t bad.
A little insanity is good when one knows, and one is sad.
You’re realistic. You’re careful. You sit around and mope.
At least when one is insane, one has hope.
I’m feeling best when I do anything to win.
That’s why I have this grin.
You smile, but you’re miserable within.
But I know. After a long cry, you too, want to win.
The experts will talk about strategies for hours:
Don’t ever say you love her, they say. Don’t bother with flowers.
Don’t make it easy for her. Make it hard.
This is guaranteed: Put your own personal poem in a card.
But this is what I finally learned, after the passion and the sin:
Sobriety. No derangement of the senses. No intoxication.
If they’re drunker than you, you win.