affection

At a point when I thought I'd struck rock bottom,

in what amounts to a public reassessment

of my tested intellect, now I find I'm smitten

with a bit of additional humiliation - the grades!

I'm afraid at what I see in the mirror - this window

on an inside-out image, where I'm worthless to the core -

where I'm floored and counted out. But I've missed all this -

insisting (with abysmal folly) that my eyes deny it.

I'm frightened mingling with former friends, when it's known

they disown me now in the role of mentor. To meet

or treat with them in any way at all

might call in question my tacit rejection of the verdict.

As faint as was e'er now my self-respect,

I've drunk their cup of poison to its dregs.