I guess I knew this day I’d see When you would ask of me “Father, what is a man?†Son, sit and rest For we have ran far farther then I’d thought we’d run These years were short, these days were long. Some say a man can run forever His legs longer and stronger and his heart, better But a man that travels without rest Is a man that misses what he left The dust on the road where his foot did fall Stamp out the names of those who loved him Family, Friends, and Lovers All The man is lonely in his endless race Save the echoes of himself that he does chase He runs in circles, his dreams in the middle An Awkward band serenades him with fiddle in hand He forgot where he began He forgot where to end But what’s a beginning and end when you’re caught in spin? He’s not a man son, he’s the wind And a man that talks to god, well he’s insane But keep your lips and do refrain From saying that, my loving kin For words like that are drenched in sin But a man that sees and doesn’t complain, son, they call him a tool And a man that thinks things can change, that one’s a fool It’s better to be a man that hides Though allowing fear to overcome your being Is just another form of suicide And son they call that man a masochist He silently will hate the world, a pessimist in falling swirl A man that thinks he knows every truth That’s a man that eats his fruit with just one tooth His bites are small and full of pain And in his mouth they turn to grain Of Sand and of salt But keep in mind, it’s not his fault He thinks the food to taste divine As he chugs his urine and calls it wine A man who stands upon his foes Raises his sword high, and there he boasts That his sword here is sharpest of all And as a bonus, it’s as long as he is tall But other men will call him down and pointing daggers Request his crown For what was claimed a claymore to be In the face of his peers is small and wee “Is this all you have?†They laugh with vigor “No! Not at all! I swear, it gets bigger!†The man’s insecure and he’s afraid of himself As he stares at the statues of real men on his shelf Though admitting his faults will save him the trouble He’ll remain inside of his safe little bubble The man is a coward, the man is a boy And he’ll swing his sword, though it’s a only toy A man without love is a man without life Though a home’s not defined By where he keeps his wife The home’s where his heart is And hearts tend to wander But always come back as men's hearts will feel guilt And compassion and wonder Of what he’s forgotten in the crib that he built With the wife that he loved and who’s blood that he split Sons and Daughters give way to his new cloudy days And shed light on the mess of his mistress and maids And at night he will cry over his lies and deceit With nothing left but the child his wife gave to him Before he took her in rage and defeat He Cast her away To the god he will hate for the rest of his days I feared for this day when you asked me what men are And what you will be, come this new cycle of stars For I don’t know the answer I can’t tell you what I don’t know Though I think it very plainly shows I know exactly what men are not Men aren’t liars, killers, hypocrites or cowards And those that run along with that lot Are the men that will sleep and never dream And friends of mine can attest to that Ask of someone else, for what I may seem Is not what I am, a rat who scurries Always, forever in a hurry Away from myself I forgot where it all began I know not where it ends Though I’ve looked around this circle as I run and I spin Things will never change I will always be wind
I love this actually Cinnyboo, definitely makes you think. I am curious as to your source of inspiration for it. I am trying my hardest to find some flaw with it so I can crit it and not just go all googly eyed, but I can't see anything I would want changed. My favourite part I think, the idea that no matter what you are and what you try to be, you will still be wrong in the eyes of some. Or at least that is if I understand it right.
Well...This might be in the wrong sub-section...aside from that, this is very strange, at least to me. It seems...so, well I can't find an exact word for it. Either way, I find this being way out of my league...I can relate to its message, somewhat, but it still eludes me.
Definitely a thought provoking piece you have here Cin, I'm curious as to what your motivational starting point was with this. Obviously you used something as a source of inspiration otherwise it would not have been as long as it is. Saying that, this isn't necessarily the style of poetry that I am used to (the majority of this being aabb etc). Unless you really slow down and read each word as its own, then this is a fast read and feels to me like Rap lyrics. There were a number of lines that I felt you stressed to make rythme or felt just a bit awkward.
See, I thought that initially, but when I tried to pull out examples of it, I couldn't. I think if it was changed then it would make it more awkward, whereas as it is, it works.
When I was writing it, there were parts that I just couldn't really make work, so I left them as they were. so there are some in there, but it's silly to point out flaws in one's own work.
Actually I disagree, pointing out your own flaws is sometimes more useful than not. What did you think didn't work?
I read this early this morning and this part was on my mind all day and thus I was inspired by it to write some rhymes.
