A Man's Word Is His Bond Poem by wallace eaton

I've mis-judged every revolving door that surrounds my life, some often cuts deep as a knife, should have thought it out twice, but my heart grew cold and hard as ice. But, my word should have been my bond shelter me from all day harm, although I get excited, my future ambitions will keep me calm, sometimes I get hot headed and explode like a bomb. Sometimes I speak before I think, pour my water before I can drink, it's like a odor before it stinks, or an officer without a rank. In my thoughts I've stood strong enough to absorb the pain, see the sunshine even when it rain, anything in my life I'm to blame, nevertheless it's all the same. Mentally I try to escape every thought that haunts me, what was back then will always be, my life is confusing like scattered leaves from a tree, or a buried, thought like ashes in the sea. My word is all I have to offer as most men often do, during hard times I've walk in my fathers shoe, but in maturity I've grew. So I've learned to adjust to life and each hand that I'm dealt, remembering the pain I once felt, when I couldn't control my self, female problems cause my cold heart to melt, so I get lose like links on a belt. My goals are like vanishing thoughts, that irregular product before it's brought.Against all odds is how I've fought, like a midnight thief that's never been caught. But, time has creep up and made me acknowledge what path I must take, to many times under pressure I would crumble and break, angry with myself and inflicted hate. So like most men do I adjust what I need to adjust, wipe away all layers of dust.Iron out my problems and oil away the rust, today it's not what I need to do, but what I must. No more false ideas, just a real passion to survive, thinking God each morning that I am alive.Get up and push myself to install that ambitious drive once again that product of society that no longer hides.