To Sixteen-Year-Old Me

I know you think you’re nothing but
The few things you can do;
I know you think that all the girls
Will always look past you

I know you think there’s something wrong
With you; the way you’re made —
I also know your secret fears,
Just how much you’re afraid

That you will never be a man –
The kind of man your dad is –
I know you dwell in dark despair,
And what is really sad is

You cannot see that who you are
Is probably okay:
You can be kind, and funny, and
Make friends along your way

But only if you stop your constant
Ceaseless self-abasement;
You think your being modest, showing
Charming self-effacement

But what you’re doing, everyday,
Is talking yourself down;
You’ve got to be your own good friend
When no else’s around

And as for girls: you’re simply wrong.
For soon, you will find out
That love is everywhere, and what
Our lives are all about

But love’s a special, sacred thing
That only thrives with two
Who both commit to doing all
It takes to see it through

Right now, you have your music;
Just enjoy it, do your best —
For it will serve and comfort you
In times you can’t find rest

And always know: the guy you are
Is who you’re meant to be:
Accept and then improve yourself —
You’ll love life
And see

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