A man once told me

He told me you see

That you can be anything

You wish to be

But what he says

And what I see

Are nothing but visions

Of obscurity

The mirror reveals

A pleasant child

A young poor soul

With a presence mild

Hands crushed into pockets

Eyes averted

On a second glance

He seems disconcerted

But only for a moment

Not a second more

For he knew the signs

You’d be looking for

So he stands up straight

Casts away his pride

For none may know

The vile thing inside

The failure he hides

The failure he denies

No

He looks you in the eyes

And smiles and sighs

He calls himself a coward

A fool full of pity

For himself, for simply wasting

His intelligent ability

He gazes toward his future

Knowing only he

Can change his current destiny

And make himself truly free

A man once told him

He told him you see

That you can be anything

You wish to be

But what he says

And what he sees

Are nothing but visions

Of obscurity