Someday you may claim
that I was a hero
that I took the pain
wore it so well
ate it up into myself
and gave it back
to make a change.

Someday someone
will eulogize
mark my death
with pretty lies
looking back
with gold tinted glasses
not seeing the truth
instead looking at
what passes
for a good man.

But I was not a good man.
I was lazy.
I was selfish.
I wanted freedom
at the expense of
relationships.
I wanted poetry
and it cost me
my sanity.

Someday
cards will say
come lay me to rest
and you will try to
remember me at my best.

But my life was just a jest.
I was a fool’s apprentice
kind enough,
intelligent,
creative,
but a jester at my best.