Humility, they say
be humble, do not express
your pride
But I am done hiding
my light
I can bake
a motherfucking cake
In an apron that says
laissez les bons temps rouler
(it rhymes if you say it right
so just try to say it right
because I won’t correct you anymore
because I used to
and that shit is rude)
I am made of humorous things
mostly directed at myself
but damn if I am not the best friend
that you will ever know
my heart, this big and wounded thing
well shit, bitch…it trusted you
and some day
oh some day
it needs to be held in the palm
of your hands and cradled
because I am not always so strong
I am a brainy guy
and my hands are just like my dad’s
strong
they build things
pictures with words
things with yarn and beads
and fabric and fluff
things that are nothing
things that matter
they hold yours in tough times
and reach out when they need
sometimes
I am talented
I am good
I deserve the things I’ve denied myself
and instead of sitting
and waning
pitching pathetic
I can roar
