When I look back on my early days
And contemplate my wild, wild ways:
The hands upon my shoulder laid
Were brushed aside, I wouldn't play;
I was wild, wild, wild, a willful child,
I was fierce, hard pressed, devoid of style,
I often laughed when I should have smiled;
And lacking role, I lived by guile.
I was pulled and lured, a boy of charm,
A naïve kid straight off the farm,
Unsocialized, who slept in barns,
A vagrant apt to cause alarm.
But worst of all, I had ideals,
I wouldn’t rat, I wouldn’t squeal,
I wouldn’t trade my soul in deals
To guarantee rich restaurant meals.
Too late I learned to be socialized,
But even then I couldn’t lie,
I looked on evil with scornful eyes,
And made to pay for all my pride.
Now that I’m old, my soul’s intact,
Having weathered such harsh attacks,
And all because of a lack of tact,
I am the model that I lacked.
David McLansky
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-i-look-back-5/
