When I was young I played, I explored.
And never thought of my life in front of me.
Nothing went wrong, troubles ignored;
A youngster’s lack of strife, innocence can be.
Then I awoke a teen, confused; a man a boy.
Treated like a child, expectations of an adult.
Seeking love I was green, abused, every adolescent’s story.
Emotions slightly wild, longings hastened as a result.
Went straight from high school to military, then married.
My youth cut short, now eighteen and a father.
Oh, my child was so cool! My maturity harried.
Child and home is my resort, no hating, nor a bother.
Family and children we all grew, together, a single unit.
I worked and earned, we all consumed; daily we struggled.
Mostly happy then, passing through, still never wanting to quit.
Inner discontent lurked, not concerned. It’s forever, I assumed. My mind boggled.
Now living alone, support and visitation, experience adult pain.
Limbo in my life, anticipation, dreams of happy grandchildren.
My kids have grown, new happy expectation, I’ll be loved again.
Tied to my ex-wife, proliferation, beaming with her chagrin.
Silently, to myself and no to one else, I mantra;
“I am the one!
No matter that you like it,
Or dig it! Or can live with it!
I am the one that caused all this!”