Feb 5, 20221 min readHIS OWN MANUpdated: Feb 24, 2022Like many a lad he was driven madTrying to work out just what he should beCos it’s no small joke, when you’re born a blokeTo decode masculinityHe ran his race as a sportsmanA challenging pathway to chooseWhat he hadn’t been taught, about professional sportIs that those who are not winners loseSome are just not cut out for a man’s manHe determined to not even tryHe saw men are not born to live only by brawnBut to laugh, and to love, and to cryHe played a few hands as a ladies’ manBut could not get the rules of the gameSo he cashed in his chips when he tasted the lipsOf the girl who would take on his nameHe tried his luck as a salesmanThat plan went quite quickly awryIt cannot turn out well when you’re trying to sellSomething no-one is wanting to buyHe’d accepted his lot as a family manThere are many worse things you can beBut his milk and his honey ran out when the moneyDid likewise, and we became heAt last he found peace as a gentle manGiving succour to those more in needAnd the treasure unearthed was that a man’s real worthIs found not in his bank, but his deedsHe passed away just the other dayWith no lover on hand, and few friendsSo it seems that at last he’d become his own manIs that all that he was, in the end?
Like many a lad he was driven madTrying to work out just what he should beCos it’s no small joke, when you’re born a blokeTo decode masculinityHe ran his race as a sportsmanA challenging pathway to chooseWhat he hadn’t been taught, about professional sportIs that those who are not winners loseSome are just not cut out for a man’s manHe determined to not even tryHe saw men are not born to live only by brawnBut to laugh, and to love, and to cryHe played a few hands as a ladies’ manBut could not get the rules of the gameSo he cashed in his chips when he tasted the lipsOf the girl who would take on his nameHe tried his luck as a salesmanThat plan went quite quickly awryIt cannot turn out well when you’re trying to sellSomething no-one is wanting to buyHe’d accepted his lot as a family manThere are many worse things you can beBut his milk and his honey ran out when the moneyDid likewise, and we became heAt last he found peace as a gentle manGiving succour to those more in needAnd the treasure unearthed was that a man’s real worthIs found not in his bank, but his deedsHe passed away just the other dayWith no lover on hand, and few friendsSo it seems that at last he’d become his own manIs that all that he was, in the end?