What is a man?
Is it that thing that hangs between my legs?
Then sure I'm a man.
But it's not.
Society has defined it throught the age.
Every generation yeilds it's own version,
The worrior, the scholar, the teacher, the father
Yet I sit and stare not knowing, not knowing
I sit and ponder and about my life and wonder
How would I know if I were a man
I am a husband a father a teacher and a dreamer
Yet I feel inadiquate so tiny to young
I've laughed, I've cried, felt pain, had mirth
Seen tourcher, felt heartach, been drunk,
Trod mountains, sifted deserts, touched glaciers,
Swam oceans, climbed trees, held babies,
Been loved, made love, touched lives, been touched.
I've lived. Does that make me a man?
What is a man?
Will I ever know?
Will I ever be?
--
Aaron Patterson
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