God, I'm Gross by Ian Lewis Copestick

Here I am.

A 49 year old man.

My gut keeps getting bigger.

As do the bald patches on my head.

I've been lucky, very lucky, in the past

to find women who have loved me.

I can't see it ever happening again.

When I met Karen, the last woman

who was willing to give me a chance,

I was only 30 years old.

I had a spring in my step,

and a glint in my eye.

Now, I stumble, fumble through life.

Totally defeated, and depressed.

How could I ever expect a woman

to care about me, when I seriously

don't give a fuck about myself ?

God, I'm gross. 

A drunken liability.

God, I'm gross.

Ian Lewis Copestick is a 49 year old writer (I prefer that term to poet ) from Stoke on Trent, England. I spend most of my life sitting,  thinking then sometimes writing. I have been published in Anti Heroin Chic, the Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry, Synchronized Chaos, the Rye Whiskey Review, Medusa's Kitchen and Horror Sleaze Trash.