Untitled

Nameless, as most of my poems are.

Here I sit,
Sit and wait.
For the cold wet tears
To stream down my face.
I've been drawing red lines
With my shiny silver marker
And I'm learning to trace,
A five letter word
You can read off my face.
L-O-S-E-R
I have no ambitions
And i rarely dream.
I've been running on full power
And I'm running out of steam.

When the dashing fellow dies
And you don;t know what to think.
Just stop trying and forget it.
Forget me.