Could Have Been A Contender

He sits and smiles at his big CV

Thinking he's just

A piece of some being

What exactly is he trying to prove

I wake up beside my bed and I look at the clock

And I scratch my head

Where am I supposed to be

I know what I wish that I could see

He could have been a contender

Once drunk he said to me

A brilliant fiction writer

But he had to leave it be

I bang into my desk again and I look at the clock

God it's only ten

At least I know I plan on moving on

I look at him with his cobweb eyes amusing

Himself with a wacky tie

What is he supposed to be

Creation lost in apathy

He could have been a contender

Once drunk he said to me

So why not make it happen

Even pupkin had his way

He could have been a contender

Once drunk he said to me

Well there's one shot in the barrel

I am done with sympathy