Thanks, But No Thanks Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Thanks, but no thanks
For the lost souls outnumber
Those who have been found -
I remember being intoxicated
Inside a fast-food chain, With cold tears cascading
Upon cupped hands from eyes
Like fountains of death and not of life. I remember facing my fear
Of abandonment - of desolation
That would seem to solder upon me,
Sprawl over me forever and there is no
Elixir to cure the malady. And these people tell me,
That I am going to live tomorrow,
That there are pleasant surprises
That burst in exuberance -
I almost believed them, and they almost
Believed me when I smiled and nodded
In a disdainful approval -
These people - they know nothing.
And I know everything
From pop songs, to literature
To poetry, to ballerinas, to tulips
To late-night chauffeuring, to stern afternoon drives,
Sitting beside me, flowing like fluid
On the black suede seatcovers, I will always remember.
The end is nigh - or it might have passed already
And I am set for rejuvenation - to be restored. Anew.
But then, everything in me refuses.
I am sorry. I am belligerent and impatient.
I will not go with all the people and their false hopes.
Thanks but no thanks.