WHO WOULD BE ME?

Who would be me? None really love!
I am not a tiger or a dove,
Just a lost and lonely aging man
Who finished life before it began.
I've ailed so long from life's ill cost;
A Winter scorched by it's own frost,
A never will be on this earth,
The content of my complex worth
That through a constant inner pain
Without a thought of wealth or gain
Determines that there is no truth
That cannot of itself show proof.
And yet there are sweet folk like you
Who make it worth the things we do.