My Many Lovely Evils – A Poem

In many ways I am a man

made up by many others:

by father, brother,

sister, mother,

grandparents and cousins.

I am a man,

like any man,

who’s formed by other people;

by friends and foes,

and those that know

my many lovely evils.

I hated work,

I played at work,

and then I played it out,

and now I’m free

to just be me,

that’s what it’s all about.

A man, they say,

is born one way,

and for some men that’s true,

but I was born

to be myself

and not at all like you.

For not all men

are made the same,

and I am not like thee.

I know it’s true,

I’m telling you,

there’s only one of me.

I am a man,

that’s all I am,

that’s all I want to be.

A man alone,

all on his own,

unshackled now, and free.

I sit at night,

and paint or write,

I only work for me,

because I can,

I’m my own man,

and happy as can be.