the Man You See

the Man You See

A Poem by Alastair Plymouth
"

"About Me," but poetic.

"

“The Man You See”


The man you see

Is strong,

Valiant,

Calm.

You’re not wrong,

But you’re not right.

The man I see

In the mirror

Is weak,

Fragile,

Lonely.

I mean no harm

To you

Or to me.

But I do mean this:

Don’t be mean.

Watch what you say

Because the man you see

Is not the man I see.


*** 

I would like to refute the poem above.

Restate it in a way that may be a bit more uplifting.

One thing, though, remains

The man you see

Is not the man I see.

 

The man you see,

He plays the game.

He plays it well.

He follows the rules, step by step.

Marvels at their complexity

At their meaning.

He lives each day by the Book.

 

But the man I see,

He plays his own game,

The rules himself crafted.

Each day is another side,

Another page,

Another footnote,

In the story of his life.

 

The man you see

Is not the man I see.

 

The man you see

Rock the boat,

He does not.

He takes the extra step

Goes the extra mile

To ensure peace and stability remain.

He is shackled by his roots

Held back by his upbringing.

 

But the man I see

The man I see is free.

The fetter of upbringing,

Though remains a scar,

Has long left him.

His quest

To find who he really is

To journey, to explore, to marvel

At what was kept from him.

 

The man you see

Is not the man I see

 

The man you see

Will agree with what you say

About time and space

Why we are here

All of it, he was raised to know.

 

But the man I see

Has long abandoned such thoughts.

Is he right?

The answer he does not have.

All he knows, like the rest of mankind

He must figure this out for himself.

 

The man you see

Is Not the man I see.

 

The man you see

He grows uncomfortable

Living within this closet

No one dares open it

Not even him.

 

But the man I see

Caged by this closet is he no longer.

The spectrum shone brightly that day

The day the closet door could conceal him no longer.

 

At the end of the day

The man you see

Is a figment

A puppet

A creation

Of the man I see.

The man I see

He is truly who I am.

He is free.

He is open.

He is unashamed.

 

One day

It is my hope that

No longer will you see the man you see

It is my hope that

The man you see

Is the man I see.

That the Fourth Face

Becomes the only.


Until that day

The man you see

Is not yet the man I see.

© 2017 Alastair Plymouth


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

94 Views
Added on September 27, 2017
Last Updated on September 27, 2017
Tags: LGBT, personal_struggle, closet, ideal_self, true_self, dichotomy

Author

Alastair Plymouth
Alastair Plymouth

Asheville, NC



About
I guess I could write a book just on me. Maybe I'll do a biography or release a memoir one day. I'm in a time of my life where nothing seems to be concrete, final, certain. I'm transitioning from youn.. more..

Writing