I never was much of a man
By standards of the day;
I don’t have six-pack abs
Or have too many. Anyway —

I can’t fix anything that breaks,
Although I sure can break it —
I’ve not the confidence that makes
A winner. Nor can fake it.

And when it’s time for battle
In the world of strength and sweat:
By guile, I’ll hang in there,
But the strength’s not happened yet.

And when the guys with muscles
Come by shirtless, I will know
That I barely exist
And never have
And ever so

I have competing virtues
So I won’t give up — I’ll try —
It’s hard to be a man, though
When you are my kind
Of guy

(Note – more the twenty-five year old me than the fifty-two year old me)