Monday, 22 April 2019

Man enough?

Man enough?

Sometimes I ask myself if I'm enough,
I'm a gentleman, is that man enough?
I cook, clean, do dishes and mow lawns,
Open doors, buy flowers, yadda yadda,
thing is, I'm not going to pick a fight,

I'm a flipping coward; a mama's boy,
Yet I'm always home alone like culkin,
And mothers always been on the go,
And I can barely speak on phone,
But I say so because I'm her last born.

So am I man enough?

Maybe my height has me doubtful,
but it has never really phased me,
I'll tell you why I'm so damn certain,
I always tell myself if I get into a fight,
It should be with a guy twice my size.

Small torpedo, big balls, call me kahuna, that's a wise man in Hawaiian lingo,
So if it's not my height, maybe my nose,
A close friend of mine calls me kingo,
It'd piss me off and make me feel small,

But never have I ever felt so handsome,
Like look at me, yo. I could sell ugly!
Let's be honest, nobody wanna buy that,
You can be body ugly but your heart,
That shit should look like red roses.

So am I man enough?

Maybe it's cause I have daddy issues,
But it's the 21st century; everybody does, and I'm all grown I see all fifty shades,
So paps is doing his thing, and here I am
Bada bing bada bang, problem solved.

I guess its cause I have no day job,
No job means no money that's tricky!
Meet me I'll say shit about to pop off,
But nobody wants to pay for poetry,
And I didn't go to school to study music,

So I have no career and limited skill,
I think we have ourselves a winner,
But nah, I'm patient and it pays off,
So am queued up come rain come shine,
I'll be at the office dancing on my turn.

So am I man enough?

Maybe how I tie my towel is queer,
Sometimes I roll it up here and its weird, my old consort used to take a crack at it,
But now so do I, it's an ingrained habit,
I have seven sisters, I used rock skinnies

And It can't possibly be cause I'm timid,
I'm a writer, gators aren't thick skinned,
But as an artist I'm definitely sensitive,
Maybe that's it but that doesn't cut it,
Expecting love from all is a fatal feat!

You know as a yungen I was way wiser,
I used to tell everyone, nze ndi musada
They'd laugh and mimic but I'd own it,
Now as I grow I can't even convince self
life seems to be about problem solving,

So maybe it's cause I don't own a home,
And I don't know the struggle of one,
The hustle of having no alternatives
It's either you feed your own or they die,
I can't possibly fathom the ordeal,

But God isn't stupid, He trades fair deals, If that came along I would find means,
put food on the table and guard my kin,
I wouldn't let up, you know what it means,
abandoning kin yet you had everything,


Nah, so am I man enough?
Maybe what has me in doubt is my weakness for love...


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