Nothing Was Ever Going His Way

 

Nothing was ever going his way.

No day was ever his day.

He’d smile and act his best, but for what in the end?

 

Not a single glance was thrown in his direction.

He was never the source of any girl’s affection.

 

Nothing was ever going his way.

 

He had buddies, but their presence was momentary.

There was a girl he liked, but they would never go “steady.”

 

Nothing was ever going his way.

 

He lived life day to day, but how would it end?

Few tears were shed, but not many smiles were meant.

 

Nothing was ever going his way.

 

Nothing was ever truly his.

He didn’t use words, but bloodied fists.

 

Nothing was ever going his way.

 

He’d dream at night for a better tomorrow.

Would he ever know anything but this pitiful sorrow?

 

Or would nothing ever change?

Would something someday go his way?