Finding True

Finding True


So lost. Scared child
locked in a closet
made of doors covered
in hammered words: beyond loud
they drown out common sense.

Inside, the child blankets himself
against the bitter cold
of misconception. The man he is
wraps himself in deluded blindness-emdash}
better to not see the coulds and shoulds.

Opting for a least common denominator
rather than allowing himself to feel and be
all that he is capable of --safer locked inside
himself --what he can't feel won't hurt:
fallacy for those outside see clearly.

A compass so he can be
found, allow himself to find true north.
Not settle for any less than all he deserves.
For we see into the very heart of him
and he needs to shine.

So much shielded, untouched.
Too many hidden tears we want to see
washed away. So much joy aching
to be released. He'd roll his eyes,
but we know better.

They say a good man
is hard to find. True, especially
when he needs to find himself first.
But we have faith for he is a good man,
he just needs to believe as much as we do.