Whether you live in a tin can or a mansion 
You ain't no better or worse than the man beside you
You don't disparage others, carry tales 
Or talk behind backs
If you can't say it to their face it shouldn't be said
People in glass houses and all of that 

If you act pretentious you'll be full of hot air 
No one respects a fool
And the wise see the truth 
Arrogance and insecurity go hand and hand 
And you're no man if you can't understand 
That we came from the dirt 
It's in our blood and under our nails 
And it's a weak man 
To have to stand on the backs 
Of those deemed beneath you 
Just to make yourself a seem little taller 

No, I don't care about toys on the floor
And the dishes can wait, my son's more important 
Laundry will get done sooner than later
Believe it or not 
There are many days 
When the pain is so great
That just getting out of bed 
Is a battle hard won and a fight I'm proud of

So go on ahead and put me down 
Lift up your chin in arrogance 
Scoff at my meager existence 
And raise your children to pass judgement 
When no one has any right 
To persecute or dictate 
Another's way of life 

I have more patience than most 
And I've held my tongue when I've wanted to rage
But there comes a point when lines must be drawn 
And the temper just has to break free 
I just cannot sit idly, a punching bag 

There is no "but" in apology 
Save your haft- drunken speeches
And your grandiose affectations 
That somehow led you to believe 
That there's an imaginary standard
Those around you must meet 
When you yourself are so delusional 
You actually think 
That you have the power to criticize me 

There are two people I must please
Just two beings that must deem me worthy
The image in the mirror 
And the God I'll stand before at the end
You're nowhere near Godly enough 
To pass judgement on me

I have no pretensions or delusions 
I am who I am
I come from a long line of farmers
Miners, railroaders, factory workers and soldiers
There's dirt in my veins and I'd damn proud of that 
My ancestors worked hard to get where we're at

My son runs barefoot just as I do
With callouses thick enough to race over rocks 
He jumps in puddles and rolls through mud
You cringe, I shrug 
He can tear out every toy in the house 
As his imagination leads room to room 
I just shake my head, haft amused
And warn him he has to clean his mess
While you look as though you're going to faint  

What kind of life can a child live
If they have to be perfect at everything
Or feel as though they've lost your love and respect 
If they fail to meet your exaggerated expectations
When you yourself will never be man enough to meet them
What kind of childhood is that
When you're as fake as glass rubies 
With a fictional persona you display to the world
All too easily shattered with cleansing truth 

I pity you, truly I do
You're as weak as a kitten 
You couldn't handle haft what I do
Your life is a lie, a fantasy of your mind
While I live as I please
Not wanting or needing approval or applause 

You're jealous that I 'm fearless enough
To disregard the opinions of others
And even more envious
That I make the real sacrifices
To be here when my loved ones need me
While you stop in for 5 min weekly 
And toss down a layer of mulch once a year
I have built memories and you've piled regrets
And eventually you'll understand that fact
  
Save your false apologies 
Speak your soliloquies to your mirror
Keep all your snobbery away from me
I'll not be your doormat nor sycophant 
My character is so far above you 
And you're just too small a man to see
Whether you live in a tin can or a mansion 
You ain't no better or worse than the man beside you
And only the mirror and God have the right
To pass judgement on another's life. 


by Amanda Burns

 

 

 

 

© Amanda Saylor nee Burns. All rights reserved