It’s nearly as old as I am,
Born with my personality.
A reservoir behind a dam,
Watering and powering me.

Feelings belied my appearance,
But I always felt just like me.
Still it confounded my parents.
Who didn’t know what to do with me.

They offered love and affection,
While deep down afraid of my brain.
And that implicit rejection,
Birthed ego drive to hide my pain.

Shunned compliments as a defense,
I strove for more personal pride.
But I feared my intelligence
Prevented being satisfied.

That deep seated scared little kid
Just wanted to be loved for me.
That need to be loved feeds my id
And needs for false intimacy.

“We don’t know what to do with Dan.”
That little boy still hears those words.
He’s frightened inside this grown man,
Whose ego seeks love undeterred.