Start With Your Pen

The insecure man is a fledgling,
He fights,
Scraps
And scrounges for respect.

His muscles may be big,
His arms – strong
But you can see
In his heart and his eyes:
He is empty,
But for the wild chase of a desperate man.

He sees what he wants in the hearts of others
And believes confrontation is key.
A primitive shove
Lands him in the fray.

He may have won the fight,
But the fear is still in him:
Like a buried seed
Growing into his personality.

Everything he tries shoves him
Further away from his transient goal:
Plunging him deeper
Into cold insecurity.

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