A thought is like four heartbeats abreast on a line.
At least that’s how my loser mind thinks things should be.
Anapestic Tetrameter is what you see.
But alas, folks would swear it’s not coming from me.
And it doesn’t take much for most folks to agree
That if someone else wrote this, then it would be fine.

I do sound like a loser. Self-pity is one
Of my grossest achievements. I can do that well.
What reward do I get from it? All is in vain.
Yet I continue doing it. Am I insane?
We are all of earth’s substance and part of its spell.
Would it please a sore loser if he were outdone?

How do losers begin life? …Perhaps in a shell
Where the world remains outside ‘til it barges in
And disturbs peace contained there because that’s the way…?
Are there too many losers with too much to say?
If you had just ignored my original sin
Perhaps I’d not be sharing your gift of my hell.