As I ponder my new life and how it's become.
Some nights filled with fondness and others with rum.
Things never used to seem so complex.
Before I realized my ego didn't allow me to reflect.
I thought I knew what was what,
I thought I was so very clever.
Now finding out what type of man I've become
is sadly, the hardest endeavour.
I don't have doubt that I make people smile,
Giving a joke while they laugh all the while.
I want to be remembered after my stories are told,
A smile that lingers long after its grown old.
I like who I am and who I tend to be,
but as I get older I find so many flaws in me.
Do I give enough? Do I care too little?
Are my stories just fluff? Is my resolve too brittle?
These things worry me as I become an older man,
I want to be better but retain who I am.
So where do I start. What do I do?
Who do I talk to? Where's Dr. Drew?
There are people in my life who ask the hard questions,
I just hope I can realize they are simply suggestions.
I seem to be my biggest enemy,
Hard-headed and stubborn (yet unintentionally).
When truth finally comes will I see it as a guide?
Or will I blindly look beyond it while it smashes into my pride?
Having doubt seems like a good start.
A means strengthening what I have in my heart.
A toast to what I don't know.
Will perhaps plant a small seed to grow.
Who knows, maybe I'll be proud of me,
for being as compassionate as someone once asked me to be.