I know a man,
Whose life consists of tall tales,
Forgotten tasks, and imagined slights.
I know a man,
Victimized by his own stagnation
His unearthed desires --
Buried in always fresh fear.
I know a man,
Who believes in clenched fists and angry slurs,
Instead of warm hugs and words of praise.
I know a man,
who befriends failure while running from success,
Like an escaped convict --
Lurking in safe shadows.
I know a man,
Who relishes the telling of lies
Untrue words ease off his tongue --
Like a lazy feline basking in afternoon sunlight.
I have met this man -- countless times.
First, in the face of my absentee father,
Then, in all of the faces of men --
Who embody my inability to love myself.
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