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This strange hand I've been delt
A fellow who's thin
but isn't weak.
They say to squeeze me
would surely break me.
To lift a sack
would certainly crack my back.
Truth is, the only thing that's fragile
has been my heart.
So I sit here, wondering what makes one strong.
A man who loves to be formal
but likes to get loose now and then.
They'll miss the fact that one who dresses up
can also like cuddles and be pinned.
They'd say 'hey, he wouldn't be interested'
though they never inquire to be sure.
So I observe, wondering what I'm missing.
A sable of golden brown
but doesn't let that affect his way.
I know it maybe odd
it's not something my age you usually see.
One who will speak well
and have a rare cup of tea.
Dress for vintage
not that pimping mess.
For if I did
I could be depress.
When people look at me
what do they see?
A person being himself
or some kind of wannabee?
For I know all too well
this projection is a harmful, and silly thing too.
When someone's own traits and emotions
are attributed to you.
It's a stressful affair
when people are this way.
I feel if I was someone else
I'd have a better stand.
At finding those who share my interests
and maybe that gentle loving hand.
So I lie in bed, wondering what does it take.
A gentleman who'd go the extra mile for others
but hardly somedays have the strength to get home.
I'll do a lot for people
care, give, and rarely take.
I'll do things
be taken for granted and hardly thanked.
Sometimes I think it's me
but what have I done?
Can't say I've been wrongfully mean
only when in mutual fun.
Though I still try
hoping my kindness will remain within me.
For I know it's who I am
even if it pains me.
Sometimes it's hard
it doesn't feel decent.
To give one hundred and ten
to recive sixty percent.
Relationships are no better
I feel like a common item; far from best.
That's interesting for a mere season
and neglected the rest.
Regardless of that
I will never conceal and quit.
For life can be too short
for that crazy bit.
So I say this must end; the quest goes on
you see, I have more respect for myself these days.
Enough mind to say
I deserve more than their ways.
Maybe it's just this body
but people make you ask way.
That as much as they want kindness
do they mislead and pass you by.
'hey, over here' I say.
So I stand there, wondering who's next.
This strange hand I've been delt
Be that as it may
I am who I am you can depend.
A love when needed
that, and a friend.
So I'll keep my spirits up
even on those nights.
When I could use someone special
to hold me tight.
I sit at the counter
holding a drink in my hand.
It's contents as red as passion
warm, sweet; it's glass desert sand.
So I sit here, wondering, wondering perhaps some can see the smile.
A smile behind the glass
within this strange hand, of mine.
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