Fruit
His name is P
Teach me to be like you,
It’s too late.
Firm handshakes and dirty shoes,
It’s too late.
Mind that rejects pain even when the body is bruised,
It’s too late.
Unattainable confidence like you have nothing to lose,
It’s too late.
Work being the only drug you like to abuse,
It’s too late.
Highly respected yet so humble has others confused,
It’s too late.
Every dream dreamt became reality views,
Its too late.
Adversity forgotten like old country blues,
It’s too late.
Teach me to be like you.
It’s too late
If I’m your fruit,
Why didn’t you teach me to be like you?
Ps. Will you ever be proud?
