THE MAN THEY NEVER SAW I was the boy they called difficult. Too loud. Too busy. Too much. The one who couldn't sit still. Couldn't switch off. Couldn't seem to fit inside the boxes everybody else fit into. Nobody saw the battle and inside rattle They only saw the smoke. And blamed the fire. So I learned something dire. Hide it. Fight it. Laugh. Carry on. Smile even if it's only for a while. And whatever you do...rise the bar don't let them see how tired you really are...hide that scar Years passed. The boy became a man at last. Got a job. Paid the bills. Wake up every day and pray pray pray And from the outside... everything looked fine...come and go like sunshine But inside... it felt like I was running a race that nobody else could face My mind never stopped. One thought became ten. Ten became a hundred. A hundred became a storm that cropped And people wondered why I pondered. Sometimes I got angry. Not because I wanted to be cranky. Because frustration was easier to show than letting go. Sometimes I disappeared. Not because I didn't care. Because the noise inside my head wasn't fare, it became louder and the world around me a bit more crowder. Sometimes I forgot things. Important things. Birthdays. Messages. Promises. And the people I loved thought I shoved. But the truth is... I cared so much it hurt as such. I loved deeply. Felt deeply. Thought deeply. But explaining it? Let me put it needly That was like trying to describe a tornado while standing in the middle playinga banjo. So I carried it alone. Like a lot of men being a clone. Work harder. Stay busy. Kept moving not a sissy Because if I stopped... I'd have to admit how lonely it felt being misunderstood. Then one day... someone finally said the words I never knew I needed to hear my soul to fed. "You're not broken." "You were never broken." "You're just carrying a brain that works like a runaway train." And suddenly... all those years started making tears. The angry boy. The quiet man. The forgotten messages. The unfinished projects. The exhaustion. The disappearing acts. The feeling of never quite belonging. The facts. It finally had a name. ADHD. Not an excuse. Not a weakness. Just an explanation. And maybe... that's all some men need for a new creation. Not pity. Not fixing. Just understanding. Because behind the frustration... behind the silence... behind the mistakes... is often a good man doing the very best it takes with a battle you never saw and a rattle very raw. š¤ Pinoks Vibes Songs for the bruised, not the perfect.
