What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
Do I fight in the war?
Enlist with Uncle Sam?  
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
What if my perspective of a man is prancing around in tights like I’m Peter Pan?
Tell me how the **** I become a man?
Become a man!
Do I have to become buff, or start fighting bad guys like I’m superman?
Perhaps I’d know if I had a dad.
Had a dad.
****.

J Cole was right when he said,
There are no ******* role models,
Afterall as a kid I inbottled.
All my emotions,
Fighting an internal battle,
Not wanting to just go with the motions.
For that would just make me cattle,
To a collateral revulsion.
Betraying my morals for a castle.
That is made of glass and delusions.
Becoming ignorant to that fact that I’m broken.
Growing up watching,
Television shows of action heroes,
Thinking that was the solution.
For what it meant to be a man.
Yeah, I was...
Growing up watching mad men,
Treat women as a sort of exhibition,
An object or a trophy, to be winning.
With the main goal to get one ***** in,
As many women,
In order to be claiming,
The title of stud that is above all other men.
Good thing I was raised by my mom,
Who taught me that-that was the thinking of villains.
And not a true depiction,
Of what a true man should be.
But if that’s that the case,
Then tell me how a man should be?
How a man should be?

Cause right now I’m still wondering?
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
Do I fight in the war?
Enlist with Uncle Sam?  
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
What if my perspective of a man is prancing around in tights like I’m Peter Pan?
Tell me how the **** do I become a man?
Become a man!
Do I have to become buff, or start fighting bad guys like I’m superman?
Perhaps I’d know if I had a dad.
Had a dad.
****.

If I were gay,
Would that be okay?
If I were queer,
Would you treat me weird?
If I were Trans,
Would we still be friends?
Would I still be a man?
Or would I be seen as a problem?
Why do these norms,
Have to create storms?
Struggling with identity,
And the pressure to conform.
Pressure to conform.
Some days I wish I wasn’t born.
For I feel torn,
It’s like I’m at war
Stretched to limit,
With a whimper replacing a lions roar.
How man minutes?
Will it take to unlearn not to be a monster?
At least my father,
Taught me one good thing.
And that is not to be like him when I get older!
When I get older.
Perhaps that is the only answer.

For how the **** I become a man.
Become a man.
I create my own destiny,
**** the patriarchy.
It’s time to take a stand.
Take a stand.
To be a man,
We need to speak up,
To showcase our emotions,
To listen and educate ourselves,
To understand the problem,
We need to address it.
This how the **** I become a man,
Become a man.
By creating my own destiny,
**** the patriarchy.
It’s time to take a stand!
Take a stand.
This how the ******* become a man!

Alright,
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
I be on some dope ****.
Swimming in a pool full of roaches.
That way I don’t have to worry about lunches.
Web MD my diagnosis.
Losing touch of reality, got the psychosis.
Some think I’m precocious.
Bunch of snowflakes stooges.
Who have worse hair cuts than Brutus.
Imma hit em with a 450 splash, psicosis!
For this is where the juice is.
Yeah, I ain’t take no losses.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
I just might be the wokest.
While others try to be racist,
Calling me Pocahontas.
Imma knock em down like I’m locksmith.
It’ll be like a mortal Kombat victory, completely Flawless.
To be honest,
That is why I avoid those who are toxic,
Who haven’t a conscious,
So, to me their quips are nonsense.
It’s simply quite atrocious,
Afterall, it probably stems from them being jealous.
So, why should I let it hinder my balance?
Or roll with the punches?
As far as I’m concerned,
Haters can **** my phallus.

Gotta get outta this negative mindset,
That got me wanting to try for the lotta,
Because it’s seems more realistic.
Yet ironically leaves me ending up as,
Just another statistic.

For my heart is like a piñata,
With my soul becoming as deserted as Nevada.
Downing down the bottle.
Smoking some marijuana.
In hopes for finding nirvana.
For right now, I feel more destroyed than Gomorrah and *****,
But perhaps that’s what I get for becoming a dragon,
Isolating and pushing away anyone,
Believing that I’m someone,
That deserves loving.
But to protect myself,
I end up starving.
For I’m Scared to heal what’s broken.
Got given opportunities, but instead of accepting what others were giving.
I went Trailing down a path of self destruction.
For the words of the past are still afflicting.
Got my mind believing the affliction of their poison.
Thinking I always have something to be proving.
Diving into the dens of lions,
Getting involved with vermin.
That ended with me in a prison.
However, my mind was in prison way before then.

Gotta get outta this negative mindset,
That got me wanting to try for the lotta,
Because it’s more realistic.
Yet ironically leaves me ending up as,
Just another statistic.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid,
And explore possibilities.
The destination doesn’t matter.
What’s fun is the mystery.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
And dance like no one is watching.
Who cares what others think.
As long as you are having fun.
Your moment has just begun.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
And paint that blank canvas.
With a parade of colours.
That could cover all of Kansas.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
Take that leap of faith.
Don’t wait till some day.
For tomorrow could bring death.
So, go and do it.
Before you regret it.

In morning dew, the world delights in colour.
With greenish meadows,
And white clouds that blankets blue skies.
Where flowers blossom with reds, yellows and purples.
With red robins fluttering and chirping.
Till dusk turns to dawn.
And owls awaken.
When camouflaged snakes slither and hiss.
And wolfs howl at the moon.
When mice scatter trying not make a clatter.
The night tells a different story.
One of survival.
At least for animals.
For human however it is a different endeavour.
While some slumber others gamble.
Spending coin to enjoy a chance at happiness.
For mornings aren’t always seen as a happy time,
Where responsibilities take over,
And no time to party.
Or have time to relax.
Either way it’s poison.
So, might as well take the chance.
That some see as lust.
While others see it as a life free from stress.
After all isn’t money the measurement of success?

Struggling with love,
As I fumble through it,
Not fully sure if there is a man above.
But I’ll get through it.

Father was all out of love,
But I grew accustomed to it,
Was caged like a dove,
Till I broke through it.
Shattered the glass ceiling,
Because I said ***** it.
My heart was reeling,
Got married then divorced before I knew it.
Wish I could leave it all behind,
But my trauma keeps me stuck in it.
Sometimes I wish I could rewind,
The time my heart took leadership from my mind.
For I always was chasing love because I never had it,
Thought I found the perfect magician but now all I’m left with is a rabbit.
With negative self talk becoming a habit.
If looking for love was a drug,
I’d be a crack addict.
For my self-worth was mugged,
Got my swerving into oncoming traffic.
At least then my death could be like my birth; ******* tragic.

For I’m...
Struggling with love,
As I fumble through it,
Not fully sure if there is a man above.
But I’ll get through it.

Maybe I just lost sight,
But if I enter church will God Smite?
Like that rabbit, I’ve been camouflaged my whole life,
Running away from danger, because I was too afraid to fight.
While chasing after carrots without any hindsight.
Heading right into a trap, perhaps I’m my own biggest plight?
Lying to myself and others by saying I’m alright.
Yet wishing I could go plus ultra like All Might.
For I’m feeling so powerless,
Filled with cowardice,
Living in a world so colourless,
It just feels like I was hit with a Judas kiss,
****, but I guess that just my penance.
Used to be the king of my tower,
But as the clock hits the final hour,
The people I used to step on like flowers,
Turn to lions that devour.
****, but I guess that just my penance.

Maybe that why I’m...

Struggling with love,
As I fumble through it,
Not fully sure if there is a man above.
But I’ll get through it.

You can’t bejewel my mood,
Or glitter bomb my experience.
For my inner darkness consumes,
That turns love to violence.

You can’t wash away what’s permanent,
Or paint over to hide the cracks,
For my temperament reacts,
Like some uncontrollable experiment.

You can’t fix what you can’t see is broken,
Or use glue or tape to build a foundation,
For my trauma corrodes,
The attempts towards betterment.

You can make a diamond from coal.
Only if it can handle the pressure.
But my hearts already been crushed,
Becoming nothing more than sediment.