You are of no use to anyone
Just another son of a son
Like all the other men around you.
You're lost and no one has found you.

Is it any wonder as to why this is?
Take a look at your strengthening wrists.
It took a long time for them to heal.
You are just a man, not the man of steel.

You hide behind a mask. You still think
It works but people see the kinks
And knicks and scratches and battle scars,
A tortured soul and, on your sleeve, a broken heart.

Who do you still wear it for?
Can you even feel it anymore?
Do you feel it when you are on your own
Breaking sweat and breaking your bones?

All in vain attempts to feel alive.
Without taking up in arms and knives.
Only taking up pencils and pens, a literary warrior
Writing stories, who do you write these stories for?

The people you say? YOU ARE A LIAR
Will they stand up for you when it comes down to the wire?
No, and why should they? To them, you're an unknown
They want to be left like you are... alone

So pack up your supplies and pick up your shame
If you can carry it, that is, and scrape your name
Up off of the ground. Realize the truth.
You can't save or help anyone when **YOU CAN'T EVEN FIX YOU