I have had great deliberations about posting this particularly personal poem. I have been quite attached to it since I wrote it in high school 5 years ago. But I woke up to reality, and realized nobody might really see it. Hey, nobody who looks at this site may know who I am! So, it is on this basis that I post this poem. Hope you like it.

The Gentleman

Most women want a gentleman;
A man who won't treat her wrong;
who professes his love in a song.
That man might lurk in me;
hard to believe as it may be.

There are men that exist,
with women from side to side, looking lovely and alive.
He says he loves them all...
Do they believe him... I don't know.
What do I get? I get the women that complain:
"My man tried to play me... All men are dogs..."
Meanwhile, these needles pierce my emotions...
What about me, what about the gentleman?

There are men with no futures,
with no lives; vibrantly showing their negative vibes.
But damn those women who love them so.
Are they idiots... I don't know.
What do I get? I get a future.
A job; not the best one, but one nonetheless.
My body working to the bone, and for what?
What about me, what about the gentleman?

There are men that exist,
that take the good souls of women and treat them like crap.
Without a care in the world; but women love them anyway.
How they do it... I don't know.
What do I get?
I get the women that cry on my shoulder like I'm stronger than a boulder;
To tell me how hurt they are; feeling that they can't go on
then tell me I'm their friend, and can't be nothing more.
Like a gunshot straight to the heart;
What about me, what about the gentle...

I know what you're thinking. You probably think I'm crazy.
A depressed lowly man just trying to get attention.
Well I'm not; so excuse me for having emotions;
sorry for giving a damn - I'm just really tired of this crap.
So go ahead; go ahead and mock me.
Laugh at my imperfection that you couldn't find in your man.
Those tears you cried before mean nothing to me now.
The pain you felt could've been avoided and I know you know how.
Why me... why the gentleman?

I'm only the mild-mannered gentleman;
one of the few that exist;
caring, passionate, understanding men
who only want to prove to be true.
Why can't they see me... I don't know.
What do I get? I get the rejection
the pain women can never bear...

I get the pain, the cries, the tears,
the frustrations and complications;
no one could understand, even if they tried.
Who would care anyway?
About me, about the gentleman
The two that are one despite what you think
The man who never got a chance to sing that song,
who never got a chance to prove you wrong,
the chance to acheive to make you believe
that we do exist... and most women want a gentleman.