At that moment a long time ago when I was
In abject desolation over what I felt
Was a life made unlivable by my own hand
Nothing made any sense. I could not understand
Why I’d come into being. Far below the belt
Was my consciousness and I knew what was the cause.

I’m a loser. That’s such and unkind thing to say
Of oneself or of anyone but it’s so true.
I’ve done things I’m ashamed of. I’ve acted the fool.
In my trying to live life I broke every rule.
I’ve been a rotten bastard to everyone who
I have ever known. How did I turn out this way?

I’ve burnt every bridge I know. Now with urgency
I confess that I’m not the kind of person who
Is deserving of anything but psychic pain.
I don’t blame the fact that I’ve made myself insane
By my defects of character. What can I do
To express my remorse for what I’d come to be?

I believe in past lives. This life I’m living now
Is a fluke. It’s as if I’m not human at all
But an alien sent here to learn a few things
About being a decent person and it brings
On a deep sense of sorrow that I’m yet a small
Reflection of humanity gone wrong somehow.

Yet I know that my chance of survival is slim
As I hold on to this story. I want to live
Out this mess of a life and perhaps finally
Turn out to be the person I wanted to be.
I believe that I still have a whole lot to give.
I don’t want to believe that my future is dim.

To all those whom I’ve harmed know that I’m now aware
Of the damage I’ve done. I can only regret
Having done it. My sorrow is deep and profound.
There’s no way that I’m able to turn things around
At this point. Am I able to repay my debt?
That’s the question I’m left to ponder with much care.