i can do as i please
really
i'm only kidding myself
i'm too shy
or too tired
or don't care
but each time that i find myself
talking to a pretty girl
i run away
before i'm halfway there
each poem an entry
in some dismal journal
i know you don't read it
it's too hard to bear
inadequate people
such goddamn frustration
for unloving women
and men everywhere
Little Flower Book by Wayne Myers