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I may always be lost, but I know where I’m going.
There’s only one end for me, so no point in slowing.
I may not have anything, but there’s nothing to lose,
And it’s definitely an achievement to survive in these shoes.

When you talk to me, I am aware of your guile.
But no use to frown – it only makes me smile.
No stinging shock at a failure every day,
I know and I see – it’s our natural way.

Myself the paranoid one, who sees an endless list of flaws,
Who will not stop nagging, the one with the never-tiring jaws.
Who gets drunk on Sun Chips over the most shallow of mires,
And cries up a storm at the sign of small brush fires.

I’ll smile through my tears, though, and sing through my flu.
I’ll be on stage with a fever, standing right next to you.
I’ll know why you do these things, and I’ll still be unhappy,
But I’ll take your explanation, and hope you won’t betray me.

You’ll make a joke that stings me, though it’s not your intent,
I’ll ignore it, of course, and return my usual smile, slightly bent.
You may die crying, frowning, coughing or hacking,
As for me, I already know – I’m going to die laughing.

If I expect life to be this way, I’ll know this was meant to be.
If I look up and see only blue sky, the gods aren’t out to get me.
Nothing’s possible now, but someday it will all be done.
I’ll reach beyond the sky, and maybe one day touch the sun.

In defense of the time-honored pessimist, here is a question to give thought to;
Who of the two of us is the fool – is it me, or is it you?

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