Incomplete metamorphosis to manhood

Once upon a time, this obstinate beastie boy

(i.e. yours truly, or none other than me)
fought tooth and nail,
(hence the reason I wear dentures)

against maturation, and sought

self starvation as modus operandi.

Adept at balking,

plus delaying, stunting and thwarting

transitioning toward adulthood
(mine spindle shank legs
to show and tell as proof positive),

yours truly fell short

(and stymied physical growth
regarding lame rascal

with size nine little feet to boot)
never to attain requisite

emotional, financial,

and spiritual independence.

When mysterious processes

courtesy puberty foisted

one garden state variety

(think generic) Homo sapiens

transformed puny young slip of a lad

into adolescent long haired

pencil necked geek,
the genetic blueprint

already sabotaged prospect

for musculoskeletal framework
to attain maximum potential.

As an extremely shy,
(nay socially withdrawn prepubescent person)

strong aversion awoke toward segueing

from docile average non prodigal son

into grownup with
attendant responsibilities thereof.

Fast forward decades later

namely July fourteenth two thousand twenty,

when self condemnation

laments forsaking positive growth processes
(ordinary run of the mill bodily changes)
indeed nsync with linkedin social development.

Matthew Scott Harris deprived himself

relishing, savoring, and tasting

chromosomal biologic metamorphosis

including wreaking havoc, nixing, and

foregoing heterosexual interpersonal experiences,

thus sparking woeful regret

disallowing, disenabling, and not providing

natural encoded healthy growth

of body, mind, and spirit triage

regarding fluke of universe i.e. me

(since origin of aforementioned species)

took center stage tentatively
bivouacking upon globe.

Much ado about nothing
can be done measure for measure

missing out out love's labour's lost

nevertheless, all's well

doth (did) not end well

concerning (by dickens)

my life and hard times,

which cannot square miserable

with great expectations never attained

courtesy wretched soul,

scratching our feeble existence,

who gives the antagonist and/or protagonist

constituting Les Misérables,

a run (for his) la monnaie,

eeking out hand to mouth subsistence

never livingsocial, nor buzzfeeding

avast set of basic hormonal needs and wants

and/ or acquiring, succoring,

and treasuring pittance
akin to dime a dozen

day late and dollar short paupers,
(whose mere pennies on the dollar earnings,

albeit insufficiently funded legal tender)

while accruing mere stale crumbs

comprising daily bread -

our humble father
who art thou in heaven...
bejesus crust...damn near

impossible mission to guarantee

adequate sense and sensibility

pertaining to mine remaining

complete or partial celestial orbitz

without pride nor prejudice

upending, jeopardizing, or compromising

my fragile ego contemplating Cogito, ergo sum.