If a winner walked up and slapped me, I would ask him his secret.

I started off losing,
dad didn't even want me.
Neither did my grandfather,
who took care of us for years,
man those were the days of tears.
Faced down many young fears,
now it appears,
I still have more fears.
Old age fears,
staring me right in the face,
invading my peace of mind space.

Never hardly won anything,
no one gave us hardly nothing,
but a hard time,
tried to get me into crime,
make me apart of the slime.
Many times I slipped,
life slapped,
slapped the crap out of me,
so hard my eyes almost couldn't see.

Again a winner,
well you're reading a loser.
If you're reading at all.
Wouldn't surprise me,
if these words went blank.
Fell on deft ears,
read by no eyes.
No it wouldn't surprise.

So you see,
I have nothing to lose,
but I'm not dead,
so I still have a few choices.
Out of my choices,
I prefer to do this freaking poetry writing,
and go out fighting.
I  still might be fighting a lost cause,
but life won't pause.
It just keeps kicking,
but to this writing,
I'll keep on sticking.

Nowhere else to go,
I'm at the end of my rope.
So I will try to hang in pride,
simple enjoy the ride.

G