Outsider

I was born when I was forty-seven
Into a life or death fight
Loved ones all dead and I hope in heaven
Down here it was always night
It was sink or swim it was me or him
Some told me I had lived before
I would rather not remember
Another life another war
Everyone died in November
They left me here and were no more

Left as an outsider a stranger man
This is the way my poetry began

As soon as I got good
And people knew my name
I got misunderstood
Mean people pounced to blame
They were just like Uncle Jack
Who sank as I learned to swim
Men like him on the attack
But it was me and not him
In that life or death fight I won
With a pen while he held a gun

I consulted the lords of poetry
They said not to worry but just be me

That I was doing well
Had aroused jealousy
Let the nuts go to hell
That I had the right stuff
Keep on and I would see
I was pretty damned tough
I would make the big leagues if by and by
Because all my words are true
Lie down contented when I come to die
So that is what I will do

+Steven Curtis Lance



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