I hate my pride,
And the way I’m never satisfied.
I love my drive to work and make,
Even if it’s just for motion’s sake.
I hate my reluctance to make a stand,
Even when the embers of my anger are fanned.
I respect my lack of complaints,
Though it doesn’t put me with the saints.
There are many sides to me,
Some I love, others a don’t want to see.
I have good traits and bad,
Some are happy, some are sad.
I try to maintain self respect,
Though I know I’ll never be perfect.
Now has come the time of day,
When the good little boys go out to play.
And by play I mean work and toil and strain,
To make a living and create gain.
With tired eyes he rises early,
To face the world so bleak and surly.
And goes out to face the day.
He hopes to improve the way,
His family lives.
And so he gives,
His sweat, blood and tears.
He faces many fears,
But never backs down to a single one.
Not till his day is done,
And he can finally return to the sweet embrace,
Of his loving wife and her tender grace.
While one is a child the time seems slow.
We hardly pay attention to the seeds we sow.
We rush about and have our fun,
Never thinking it will soon be done.
Then comes the day when at last,
We finally realize how soon it passed.
The time has come to start moving on.
The sun is rising, it’s a new dawn.
The first few years of careless bliss,
One shall now forever miss.
When childhood fancies fade to gray,
Then shines the light of a new day.
The times and friends will never be forgot,
Neither the lessons learned, nor those who taught.
Now we realize that those things they shared,
Are what for life made us prepared.