what kind of man do i want to be?
that is the question that keeps returning. keeps burning.
etching with its claws
deeper
and deeper
in to my soul.

do i want to be this contortion of worry
this smileless shell?

do i want to dream of flying, while
longingly dragging stares, lingering on
beautiful women i imagine i might be
happy with
or

do i want to be something else?
something inspirational?
something with the integrity of
the ages?

i feel so far
away at a time when i
should be so close

how can that be?