The Child, The Man

Folder: 
Personal Poems

Me?

Ha, that’s a laugh.

A man sometimes,

A child more often.



The deepness of thought,

The ability to write,

The softer side to listen,

And to comfort those in need.

That makes the man.



My dumb feelings,

My inability to do it on my own.

The toys I still play with.

The part that hasn’t grown up.

That makes the child.



And it’s odd how uneven it is.

I can be an asshole to everyone.

Be the person everyone hates.

Be the one, who offers myself for jokes,

And makes fun of everyone else.

Is it self defense?

The only way I think I can survive?

Treat myself like shit,

Just to fit in?



No one complains,

As long as I’m not saying shit about them.

Fuck it, why should I care if it’s not about me.



I'm a child,

More then a man.

Still not grown up,

Still doesn’t' understand.



Yet those times when people come to me in need,

I’m there to hold them,

When they are at their weakest,

I try to get them back on their feet.

The death I have witnessed,

The funerals I have seen.

The accidents I have passed.

The bleeding I have suffered.

The tears shed down my face.

That is what makes a man,

Yet for some they know,

I'm less of a man then most would know.



Perhaps not less,

But not the same as everyone else.

I'm a sentimental man.

One, whom feels,

One who cares.



It’s not about looking good,

It’s about what their like.

Personality, Humor.

Its more important then everything else.

What’s the point of liking someone,

When you hate how they act.



I only wish I wasn't still a child,

That perhaps I would grow up?



Yet many say I already have,

Grown up to fast.



I speak like an adult,

Yet act like a child.



I can't be happy,

Split in two.

How do you make it right?



I’m a child here,

And a man there.



Is this all part of growing up?

Or is this part of falling to pieces.



Am I destroying myself?

Or am I building myself up.



Time will tell,

Yet as I turn behind me,

I see all that I have lost,

And when I look ahead I see what I am going to loose.



I'm falling apart,

Ever so slowly.

Nearing the edge of a cliff,

And ready to tumble over.



I have told some the truth,

And still I haven't slowed down.

I’m a train on course,

To dive off the tracks.

Speeding to fast.



Maybe that’s it,

All I have to do is slow down,

And not grow up so fast.

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