Nature spreads <br />a yellow carpet <br /> <br />at my feet <br /> <br />yellow streetlamps <br />punctuate the night <br /> <br />the steady rhythm of <br />my weary feet <br /> <br />the shush shush <br />shushing of the leaves. <br /> <br />A light shadow <br />is cast before me <br /> <br />then a darker shadow <br />springs from my feet <br /> <br />and finally <br />there's me <br /> <br />bringing up the rear. <br /> <br />I follow my shadow <br />following my shadow <br /> <br />both hell bent <br />on where they are <br /> <br />going <br /> <br />I trailing behind <br />not knowing <br /> <br />if I ever can <br />...catch up <br /> <br />and become <br />the man <br /> <br />they claim to be.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/become-the-man-they-claim-to-be-for-onelia/
