Who Am I

One minute, one hour, one day, one life The same face, the same eyes Ask this baby born what does he want to be When a grown man in a world full of insanity He had dreams and lives to dress Been a hero or a sportsman at least But now as he look at his sons eyes He pledges for a life that lies far from his sight Become a hero to his son? Become a prince to his daughter? This man has no self-identity, he never knew himself Lived a life for other eyes to see, as being someone else He now tries to get the past chards to build the tracker “What makes me happy?” he soars A rare selfish moment of a busy lost mind Closing the eyes and pretending someone to be Or eyes opened to face the mysterious realty? “Whatever, I don’t know”, those are his preferred words Too vague for a man that had dreams as a boy Too much for a grown father with empty pockets for his sons And too slouch for his eyes as looking at the mirror But, another day, another thought Chills and pessimism may get weaker But the black shadow may become stronger The father looks at his family’s smiles… and gets away for a while