You Lucky Bastard

I am a cheap bukowski
A watered down version of thee
Wait, who am I kidding
Men who I have fallen for
Never have been in love with me

But poem after poem
I am throwing my hands up
Desperately
No
I am not drowning
I am stretching me

Man after man
Word after word
Rhyme after Rhyme
I turn in to a cheap bukowski

Remember when I abused you
And called you an asshole
(Which you are)
For turning your women in to couplets
Now
Be a decent man
At least try to be
And don't hold that against me

Because soon
I shall outnumber your women
With men
Who for some weird reason
Could never love me
I mean can you believe that!
You on the other hand
Went in
Came out
Of love
Every time
Every fucking time
They loved you back
You lucky bastard
Or that's what you would have me believe

You fucked your women
And then again in your poems
And here I am
Pathetic
Pathetically
Weaving serenades
To anyone
Who half looks at me

You had your cup full
So you spit in your metaphors
And I am all empty
Metaphors spitting on me

Divine intervention
That's what I need
Or maybe just another
Bad ass Mo Fo
To not love me

I am getting there
I'll beat your score
Wait for me
Bukowski
Bukowski
You lucky dog
With bitches too many