Who am I?

One minute, one hour, one day, one life
The same face, the same eyes
Ask this baby born what does he want to be
When a grown man in a world full of insanity

He had dreams and lives to dress
Been a hero or a sportsman at least
But now as he look at his sons eyes
He pledges for a life that lies far from his sight

Become a hero to his son? Become a prince to his daughter?
This man has no self-identity, he never knew himself
Lived a life for other eyes to see, as being someone else
He now tries to get the past chards to build the tracker

“What makes me happy?” he soars
A rare selfish moment of a busy lost mind
Closing the eyes and pretending someone to be
Or eyes opened to face the mysterious realty?

“Whatever, I don’t know”, those are his preferred words
Too vague for a man that had dreams as a boy
Too much for a grown father with empty pockets for his sons
And too slouch for his eyes as looking at the mirror

But, another day, another thought
Chills and pessimism may get weaker
But the black shadow may become stronger
The father looks at his family’s smiles… and gets away for a while