man

Barely a Kid

Been a while since the pen on paper made me smile
Until now, I’ve been a faker, couldn’t take it
Thoughts runnin’ wild, but I’ve been tired
Don’t get mistaken
Used to write a quarter mile, then the isle broke
That mild smoke left leaving change to cope
Rearranged the hope, a strange cloud to float
Lingering stench, couldn’t find a wrench to fix the mess
The kiss of death dismissed my breath
Gasping, no longer raspy, just gaps be that mask me
Hiding the face beneath
Sheathed the sharp tongue with which I speak
Write obscene, to run…

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Barely A Man

Reflection is a difficult thing for people to accomplish.
Defeating our self denial is a great challenge for most.

Jack rants about adulthood, being a man, age, maturity and more.

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I’m no man. Barely a grown child. Immature. Unaware of what I want from life. Not even sure what life really is. Confused on a regular basis, hoping to one day know, perhaps understand, why I feel the way I do about the things I do.

I won’t hold my breath.

Been wondering if I’m doing life right. Am I successful? Am I accomplished? Could I be doing more? Should I just because I could? But why? To what end?

Might consider wearing a suit and tie to jump around like a monkey for money. That might make me a man.

I own a successful ever growing business. I’m my own boss. Make enough money to throw half of it away into meaningless garbage and still have bills paid, but boy do I love video games and dodging responsibility.

Understanding and thought out, but cold and unconcerned. Am I disqualified?

I’m probably republican on paper. Guess that’s it? That makes me a mature adult?

Can’t be a man. Don’t even know what a man is. No more than a 27 year old kid.

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