The Wanderer

Without a purpose, without a plan, swept away in whichever direction the wind blows...no footprints in the sand, no memorable actions, just a simple, faceless man.

Monday, February 22, 2016

I was a salesman...

She grew up in a home of farmers
I grew up in home of vendors
She expected me to work with my hands
Because that's what real men do
I tried...but my best wasn't good enough
I was a failure, I was not a "real" man
She was seething, she had to so something
She farmed to make up for my shortcomings
And I....stopped...everything...

Posted by Wanderer at 12:32 AM No comments:
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