The Young Souls and I

How impressive are those under the sun.

The growing minds that see me as a great one.

I may never see myself in the light of their souls,

but forever I will hold their image of me.

Can I, a desolate and young sun be as they describe.

Can I, a God of cowardice be the teacher they look to.

Am I capable of such a thing,

I am he Who aims too low when shooting for the stars.

I am he, the semi-positive semi-achiever.

What a blessing my reality has been.

How impressive are those under the sun.

The younger Suns who see me as great.

I may never see myself in their eternal rays,

but forever I will know they exist,

and forever I will reach out to the heavens so as to overstand their meaning.

What a blessing this has been.

For I am seen as great.

I am seen as strong.

I am seen as wise,

yet I am he  who picks at the swine of the soul.

I am he who oppresses himself.

The young sun who seeks not to shine.

How beautiful are these younger souls.

For they look at the old man that I am,

and they see a youthful prince in his prime.