Loser

Success

Like bloody evening falls, 

Over my content 

My heart slows

Under its seductive whisper 

A gold feather of lead

A cup of tea gone cold

An empty hall 

A closed theatre

vacant seats

Something just not right

The candle gutters

A lazy Spider crawls

Shadow play on walls

As I wait 

in the dust 

Of silence 

foolish I 

Poor silly man 

Wanting it all

But never catch as can,

Must be content 

With my discontent 

I consent 

But at what cost?

For had I won the universe 

And you,

I still would say I’d lost it all

And say it was not true