Where are the words Once in my head Where is the inspiration Where did I shed This power of mine Once I had an outlet, I was doing fine Where did it go Does anyone know Did I outgrow Or go to low Into my heart I shoulda known From the start That one day I wouldn't have the power One day my strength would go sour. I suppose it comes with the territory Of maturity And of impurity No longer innocent, A man in someways A choice is given Raise or be raised The road I choose will choose my life Too bad picking the road Without the strife Is not the one that will make me happy It'll only make me bitter and snappy Be raised, therefore, must be chosen Though the road be frozen With the bitterness of man I suppose that is my element Different From what it used to be Being mellow, not happy, is just a part of me I guess being a man isn't about making the right moves It's about knowing who you are Making your own grooves Following your own path Not fearing your fellow man's wrath Never quitting Never waiting Always accepting Never hating These are traits to be learned And never forgotten No matter how bad society Be crummy rotten Being a man Is not about being "the man" Or something special It's more about being humble Knowing that I'm just gonna stumble Along even my own path Is enough for me To live out my days Happy, Or mellow, Whatever I please I hope that ever I ever get lost In that road I travel Which is covered with frost I'll have a hand to seize To save me, Gently. We live not but to renew Ourselves in our children As we were renewed Along with our brethren Though now my road is lonely I've naught to fear I've gotta be patient And wait for one I will hold dear. Being a man Staking your own way That's what I'll do, No matter what. I guess that's it. What's more to say? ----------------------- It kinda rambles, from writer's block to being a man, but I think there is something in there everyone can feel.