with time the child draws in
this whipping boy done wrong
deprived of all his thoughts
a young man struggles on and on he's known
a vow unto his own
that never from this day
his will they'll take away

they dedicate their lives
to running all of his
he tries to please them all
this bitter man he is
throughout his life the same
he's battled constantly
this fight he cannot win
a tired man they see no longer cares
the old man then prepares
to die regretfully
that old man here is me

BTW between this and Unf2 the second one is not half as good. also this reminds me of another poem ...
If I could live my life again
in the next one I would try to make more mistakes
I would not try to be so perfect, I would relax more.
I would be more dumb than I have been, in fact
I would take very few things seriously.
I would be less hygienic.
I would take more risks, more trips,
I would watch more sunsets,
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers.
I would go to places where I have never been to,
I would eat more ice-cream and less beans,
I would have more real problems and less imaginary ones.
I was one of those people who live sensibly and
prolifically every minute of their life.
Of course I had happy moments. But if I could
go back I would try to have only happy moments.
In case you didn't know life is is made of that, of
moments only; don't waste this very minute.
I was one of those people who never went anywhere without
a thermometer, a bag of hot water, an umbrella and
a parachute; if I could live again, I would travel light.
If I could live again I would start to walk barefoot
at the beginning of the Spring and stay like that until the end
of the Fall. I would go around more on the calash, I would contemplate more
dawns and I would play with more children, if I had again life ahead.
But, you see, I am 85 years old and I know I am dying.
... An old man's viewpoint of my life is something which always terrifies me.