In my book of poetry
Is where I put the truth?
In my book of poetry
You’ll read of my blooming youth

The book contains
My sorrow
My pain
The books contains
My virtues
What I’ve gained
The book contains
Stories of those whom I love
And those whom I hate
The book contains
Guesses of my fate
I’ve put in everything
Everything but names
And for you
I’ll do the same
But you’ll have your very own section
A section I won’t want to read
A section of failed opportunities
A section that cuts so deep
The section called
True Defeat