Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2018
I was born into construction, I know no other trade.
Im not very good at math, and my writings just the same.
I try to act, I try to sing but in the end I always seem right back where I began
I build the set, I cut the wood, and they're painted by my hand. Could I be another man, I know I choose not who I am, but I wish I could just understand if im a product of this land or am I free to choose my plan.
I will fail at my career, this is my fear. I will be like my father, broken and poor. There is only one door for me, the rest are locked and theres no key that i can see in sight.
Rick
Written by
Rick  M
(M)   
353
     J, --- and Skye Marshmallow
Please log in to view and add comments on poems