Just a Man

I am just a man—no crown, no fame,
No headlines chasing down my name.
I wake up early, sleep comes late,
I carry love and shoulder weight.

I fix what breaks, I build what’s mine,
With calloused hands and worn-out spine.
The house, the car, the yard, the door—
I patch the world and still want more.

But beneath the grit and sweat and steel,
There’s something softer I conceal.
A heart that swells with love and fear,
That holds back tears no one can hear.

I laugh the loudest when they shine,
And ache in silence when they pine.
My dreams are small but true and wide—
A warm home, a hand in mine, pride.

I wish I had more time to cook,
To stir a ***, to steal a look.
To pour my heart in sauce and flame,
And feed my soul the same sweet name.

I stand beside those dressed in white,
Who fight through pain from morn to night.
Though I don’t wear a stethoscope,
I give them strength, I give them hope.

I don’t need riches, gold, or praise,
Just honest work and steady days.
To see my family safe and fed,
To tuck my son into his bed.

And if the world should call for more,
I’d give my strength, my soul, my core.
Because though I stand with quiet grace,
There’s fire and softness in this place.

So call me simple—yes, I am.
A stubborn, loyal, weathered man.
But I would break and bend and fight—
For those I love, I’d give my life.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.