Fuckup

I've been annoyed with being referred to as a "fuckup" by most people now just because I'm getting a GED instead of graduating high school. This poem attempts to find and give the true definition of a fuckup.

Back with the same bad news I had yesterday
Here comes the same discouraging lecture I get every day
There's nothing you can say
I've made my stand and this is where I shall stay
Unless you build me a DeLorean that can take me back
I would be much better off staying on my current track

What's done is done
I might have not won
But I still haven't lost
I'm determined to reach my goal no matter what the cost

If you're going to remain ignorant
I must ask you a question
What makes a fuckup?
I will tell you

The man who tells a woman he loves her
Only her
Then not long after, disloyalty starts to occur
Making love to another
It could even produce terrible things such as a lonely child and a lonelier mother
He had all her faith and love
But he had to kill his unfortunate dove
Not noble enough to raise an objection to his own erection
All he made rise was an unfamiliar skirt
Suppose she chose suicide
Bullet to the head
Lying in a pool of blood
By the time her child comes to wake her by jumping on her bed
He finds his dear mother's body dead
To him, she was always such a beautiful person
Who wouldn't love the only thing he or she ever had?
The thought of the child has never crossed the mind of his fuckup dad
P***y is the only object in his one-track mind
And the reason his son searches for a sense of belonging he will never find

The fake sadist looking to be accepted
Among foolish peers he knows he will never be rejected
He cuts himself to feed his attention-craving heart
He isn't tough enough to chop off a full part
All-black clothes and wrists fully exposed
Pants so tight that it's hard to keep the zipper closed
His rich father beat on him
Or so he claims
As an excuse to treat others rudely and remain grim
On a mountain of false darkness he climbs
Up the ladder of cool
Growing more pointlessly cruel
He's eaten alive by his culture
Because it has something to do with death
His favorite bird is the vulture
The innocent are knocked out of breath
So he can feed on popularity and be honored for his dishonor
If he crossed paths with any good man
This sadistic fake would surely be a goner

The lazy 30-year-old still sucking Mama's t***y
Watching anime all day
And complaining that his life is s****y
Says he will get a job someday
Said it since he was eighteen
He leaves the house only to drink and watch football
"I'm not very keen"
"Jobs are just so gay"
Maybe Mama's death will be his downfall
He knows just the remedy for boredom
It's what he often does when he's filled with foredom
He masturbates until his penis falls off
But rushes his clothes back on if outside his door he hears Mama cough
He has a girlfriend
She lives in Japan
She's a supermodel
No, actually a hairy three-hundred pound 40-year-old American man
Who can't walk without a slight waddle
Mama's Boy has no motivation
He just lives with Mama on a life-long vacation

Unlike these
I have a sense of responsibility
Even without you
I would have no tranquility
I have good reasons for what I do
Cross your arms and glare if you must
But soaked in disappointment forever
You will only rust