What Life Does To You

A part of me feels like giving up
What is the point of carrying on?
No-one respects me or cares a jot
Probably cause I make them yawn

No-one likes a grumpy old man
Bitter through deserved failures
The amount of times I’ve given up
Must be now well into double figures

With every defeat comes shame
My self esteem is now defunct
If I had the brains to go to University
I am sure I would have flunked

I think it was my broken upbringing
Although I know it’s no excuse
I was battered down so hard
I wished it was physical abuse

I had no-one to encourage me
To tell me that I could succeed
So instead of aiming for the stars
I settled for smoking weed

Then I could live my dreams
Inside my twirly wurly head
But that doesn’t pay the mortgage
Or get the wife and boy fed

I tried being a bit part actor
In someone else’s corporate dream
But I soon got the dreaded sack
For not being a member of the team

If the shit hit the sizzling frying pan
Then I would try to find a job
But until then I will carry on
Earning a few measly adsense bob

I know I need to change something
Probably my mental attitude
Whenever someone compliments
I avoid them with significant latitude

I think I will start to meditate again
It used to give me inner strength
Now I hardly have the energy
To give the wife a length

I will also find some new goals
As the old ones are a bit tattered
I stole them from someone else
When mine were bruised and battered

One day I will look back and laugh
Thinking that I’ve got it made
And then no doubt I’ll fuck it up
Once a spade always a spade

See there I go expecting the worse
It’s like I am turning into my Mum
Now I know why my Dad left her
Her expectations are at best glum

I really need to get my house in order
Or my wife will up and leave me
Actually come to think of it
That would set captive free

For she is ten times worse
She never once looks at the upside
I chose a wife like my mother
To keep me on the down-slide

Actually that isn’t very fair
We all have our choices to make
Some of them are pretty hard
Because she sure can bake

So I will be grateful for small mercies
And start putting on a braver face
For if there is one thing certain in life
A cook like her is hard to replace

As you get older it’s not the sex
That keeps depressed couples together
It’s the quality of the daily meals
That help you ride the rough weather

She promises not to harass me
I put the food on the table
It’s a deal that works quite well
Now that we are both mentally unstable

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