Hard anger, fireballs, wrath and pure rage Have no place in a place where they only turn the page I rail angrily against the suburbs and scream They laugh and tell me I've played for the wrong team I've lost my edge and worse, my glory Minivans roar by and riddles aren't hoary Malls blocks from my house...Hell, even a UPS store! No sand, no beaches, no sluts, no whores! Maybe it's because I became what I thought I was never supposed to be, it's been self-taught No L trains, quiet at night, cops riding a horse Need more proof? I live across the street from a golf course! The hard shell has dissipated, and I've been a soccer son who reads his newspaper and drinks his beer and rails at everyone Who am I? I ask everyone. What happened to that boy Who chafed at restrictions then, now blushes at sex toys? In my fortress, against the world I wage a silent war But the self-accusation that I've become a suburb boy smashes to my core I post ads on dating sites...I never did that before I fear the worst...I've become a self-important bore. Well, well, I smirk, what luck that I roared from the gate And spent 10 years agonizing about what was supposed to be my fate removed from war I lose heart for the battle Where the hell am I going next...Seattle?? In my mind I see myself as I never really was I justify my actions with the word "because" I shouldn't complain, I'm no longer in a war zone And no longer angry and spiteful I'm less hard than a bone. Maybe that's my destiny, to live in the 'docks And still try my best to seperate the gold from the crocks. Sure, I never was ever a backhanding pimp. But don't get the wrong idea...I'll NEVER be a wimp.
Reason for writing:
I really worry that I've become a soccer dad...even though I have no kids...
Birth sign: Aries
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