For want of a darling, perfect man;
For want of that exhilaration called love;
For want of a spiritual calling
And heavenly messages from above.
For want of riches, fame and fortune;
For want of sheer earth-shattering genius;
For want of eight more measly inches
And a face that’s truly glamourous.
For want of memories sweet and precious;
For want of unrelenting, creative bliss;
For want of that awareness of being cherished;
And for lack of adventurous, passionate trysts.
For want of feelings of self-fulfillment;
For want of a life that seems complete;
For want of second, third and forth chances
And senses fully replete.
I go the distance alone,
With nobody by my side,
Behind these pieces of poetry
My true feelings do I hide.
So I smoke and fuzz my brain,
I eat chocolate by the tonne.
Were it not for jazz and moonlight,
To emptiness would I have succumbed?
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