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.
Eight days shy of 24.
I they say a man’s legs are long enough to reach the floor.
I wonder am I a man yet?
I’m not sure I match that set.
Men always seem so sure,
While I’m sitting here wondering if there’s a cure,
For the fear and uncertainty I feel.
All I want to be is real.
I want to be sure of the steps I take.
And not question the decisions I make.
I don’t want to care about what nobodies think.
I’d like to have the guts to see a pretty girl and wink.
I’m tired of being a basket of nerves,
As I maneuver life’s curves.
I’m determined that one day,
I will be that way.
I will be Sanford with who I am.
I’ll always be me and not a sham.
I’ll have the courage to handle scary situations,
And act with confidence in all my relations.