I’m just a broken man
and broken, yes, I  am.
It’s nothing new, I’m just old.
Ever since I was young I’d been told,
”It’s the boy with the crack”,
and that fine line around my soul
formed the piece, I now lack
and I became,
‘The boy with the hole’

All along they would say
“Hey, boy with the missing piece,
I’d like a part, if that’s okay,
and can I take one please?”
and they'd take what they can
and break what they would
left me less than the man I was
holding only to what I could

Now, they point about
at the piece from my breast
where my heart fell out
from that hole in my chest.
They watch and laugh
and waiting perhaps,  
to steal another piece
and watch me collapse.

Yet still standing strong
though I’ve a hole in my head
“Just keep that  brain bigger”,
my father once said.
“Beware my son,
for one thing is true,
everyone will want to take
a piece of you”