The Wallflower

I did not go

To prom

I did not ask

Girls to dance

I have always

Been a shy guy

And mostly kept

To myself

I sat alone in

My bedroom

Most of the time

I had no friends

By the time

I was eighteen

I was an alcoholic

But now I was social

I could not control

My life... It had

Become anything

But manageable

Life had lost

Meaning

I had lost the

Will to live

Suicide seemed to be

The only way out

But I was not strong

Enough to do it

I guess there was

A purpose for me

A reason to live

A reason to go on

I'm fifty now

I still do not know

My purpose, and

Probably never will

But just for today

I do not care!

A poem by Garry Ventura