The Schmuck That Ate His Own

There was a boy Who wore polo shirts and tucked them into His pants He knew that he would never be great at anything Greatness wasn't in him So he waited Waited until he found the one girl Who would warm him up And keep him company until He thawed out enough to move His arms His arms reached for her His hands grasped for her hope But she was Nowhere to be found out She had left to find Her greatness And her goodness. She had left him alone. He must now pick at the growing buds Greatness takes more than just one try And To this Day He will sit picking at his toenails Biting at his failures Eating his lost attempts at greatness Until he's filled up up up Up