The Man
By Memron


The Man walked out of his village one day
And strode unto the sea
He thought to be an explorer
But alas, that was not to be

His mother had work
His father had chores
And his family relied on him
To get food, to get bed,
To keep right in the head
And to keep their lives worry-free

But the Man pushed and shoved
As he was a Man
And not a Child like they thought
He was a legal age
To be an author or sage
Or a warrior, if even he sought

And as time passes by and his parents clung dear
He knew what he had to do
He had to leave his home
Without their PERMISSION
Which had guided his life thus far

He had been confined, been caged
His soul set in bars
Of stone, that he could not break free
Of his mindless tasks, of his day-to-day things
That in which he could not find glee

So at midnight one night he took his pack
And set out on his own
And trying not to cry he said his farewell:
"Goodbye, my forever family home."

And as he went on his adventure
Homesickness creeped into his heart
And he would have a cry
And remember his life
As soon as it was somewhat dark

He joined many clans
But remembered his clan
That he was originally set in to be
And at least he relented
His soul, he repented!
Of going back and seeing his tree

His family, that he watered
And took care for
And wept over
The family he loved dearly the most
And of course, he loved writing
That really was exciting
But really, what he needed was companionship
And
Love

He went back
To reconcile
And to his surprise
They were getting on fine without him
(He should have known that)
But his family was overjoyed to see him
And they were glad at the things he had done

For word had spread about their wonderful Child
And the Man that he had finally become
He had battled, had won
Now they believed in their Son
As someone that could be on his own

And so as they said their second goodbyes
And hugged and kissed and loved
They exchanged addresses
And promised to write
Family, and Man
Now aligned

And as the Man walked in that path
As he had done before
He shed a few tears
And prepared for years
Of adventure
Of loving
Of Home

-----

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Scarlatan, in the year 951 AF.