The Pessimist's Poem

    She is tired of me

    She is bored with me

    I offend her

    I don't inspire her

    She is sick of me

    She wants to escape

    Go to other countries

    Other streets, other homes

    Places without me.

    She used to like me more

    I lost something

    We lost something

    I eroded away

    I am not who I was

    Or maybe I never was who I thought I was

    Who she thought I could be

    

    She loves God,

    She loves Jesus

    She knows that they love her unconditionally 

    But I am far from, and have a harder time accessing that Perfect Grace

    I am far from

    I try, I step, I move, but likely not fast enough

    Not steady enough

    I try, but likely not hard enough.

    Not enough.

    She dislikes all that

    And I will try.

    But only God can help us.

    And that is my prayer,

    

    Even as a pessimist.

    However, I am not a pessimist, truly,

    I am a realist and an optimist.

    Who am I?

    All of the above

    None of the above

    I am me most of the times 

    But not always

    Not always constant

    Not always the same

    Changing

    Cambiante, in Spanish

    A language of many cultures that I know decently well

    

    For a gringo

    Gringo, not tonto.

    Tonto, not imbecil.

    But realistically, I should be more optimistic.

    Yes, I should be.

    Yet, I always love her.

    That does not change.

   

    I love the Father and His Son, too.

    We pray for their Spirit. Always.

    And love. And Kindness. And mercy.

    Those are always there.