Sometimes my little boy
Unevolved self
Takes over the command center of my brain
Screams jealously
Craves attention
The rational side pleads
Be quiet
She’s busy
For good reason
The little boy
Whines
Stomps his feet
Where is she?
Shouting anger
Resentment
Jealousy
Then, the deeper me emerges
He laughs them off, those petty urges
Smiling as the boy becomes the man
Concerned about
His rash impositions
Flawed attempts to communicate
Lack of empathy
Inability to be at the table of white towel waving fans applauding the banjo lady
And worried that these unalterable deficiencies
Might be noticed
Noted
Subtracted from the sum of the good parts
When all he really wants
Is to give away
His heart
David Trudel © 2012
This is awesome.
Thanks Susan, so is she!