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A man should live his life
his own way, that is how you've lived yours... separate, a somewhat hobo existence shuffling yourself around from place to place.... til you're ticked in and everyone else who loves you is ticked out. You are a fine man, and without a doubt, the most stubborn. You see yourself as something else, principled. I see you disciplined as a monk. You don't care for society a chunk. And you'd drown in a morass of loneliness. I'm lonely and worried for you. I do not know what to do. You never listened to women, to family or to anyone who contradicted your inner soul. You weren't interested in taking a poll or anyone else's opinion. But your recent words fill me with cold. Do they spell the end of you? A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. That brittle stubborn motto too. What's manly in leaving the world behind? I'd rather see you knocking on my front door than knocking on the gates of heaven. That's my selfish heart speaking. I need to see your redemption. You are not an exemption. I need to know you are out there in the world, and that not all our family members stumble and fall into the cracks. I'd have the old one of you back. If I could sift through the past to the right day where I'd find you. The contented one. The unbroken brother/son. The young man who knew when and how much he mattered. The fella who had a life before he got scattered. I want to find the human-size superglue. Please... I want you not to walk out on you. Copyright April 9 2012 all rights reserved Melissa A. Howells Meloo of Tilt-a-World with heavy heart Vote for this poem |
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