What will I be

One day I sat with my mother
In the shade 'neath a maple tree.
I asked her ever so seriously
"When I grow up, what will I be?"

She put her arm around me,
And pulled me to her side;
She squeezed my shoulders gently
As she breathed a little sigh.

Why, you'll become a man, my son,
In just a little time.
You'll leave a world of innocence
And childhood far behind.

You may become a doctor,
or a teacher in a school.
You may become a man of God,
And preach the golden rule.

But, then again, you may become
A robber and a thief,
Doing things that break the law,
And cause heartaches and grief.

You may become a gentle man
Treating everybody kind,
Or maybe a self centered man
Passing everyone as though blind.

You may just be a rich man,
Or maybe you'll be poor;
You may be one to hit homeruns,
Or sit quietly and keep score.

There are so many things, my son,
In this world that you could be,
And each one at one time or another
Presents an opportunity.

But you will be a man, my son,
Be you false, or be you true,
So when you ask, "What will I be?"
I must say, "It's up to you".


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Synopsis
Telling it like it is.
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