Why I turned out the way I am

 

It’s for your own good

my father belted.

My mother did the same

at the dinner table with peas.

Mr. Drury in grade 7 had me

write lines of “P”s,

“It’s for your own good.” he opined.

 

Cigarettes are now $10 a pack

and casinos $1,000 plane rides away.

“It’s for your own good,” they say.

 

Seat belts, sanitariums and saints

always a safe, sane, step away.

My wife, my ever always wife

books me monthly to see a doctor

as much a dunce as a doctor can be.

All he offers are pills and pleasantries.

They both say, “It’s for your own good.”

 

Wars, weddings, sprayed green lawns

taxes, papal proclamations and government acts.

“It’s all for your own good,” they declare when asked.

 

My life nearly done and

I have yet to truly taste

what we call – free.

I followed footsteps

and danced to my own good

doing as I was told.

 

Thinking back, I now know

how I came to be who I am

this man, here and now

finally at home in the world

on edge, aware,

of what is really good for me.

 

My flusher finally broke.

 

It’s like one day you wake up

and realize there ain’t no jello tree

or the dictionary was written by a pedophile

and

you head out the door to plant or write your own.

 

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