I am the man I will always be and was meant to be.
That man is the child who for ill or fair grew to be.
Circumstance and memory become the mold.
With a crack here or there I remain steady against the winds of change.
The child inside a helpless spectator as the man wades through the madness of life.
Always there, always watching, always silent.
This is me, this is who I was meant to be.
Folly not on hardship.
The child, regardless of all, is aware!
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