So many times I heard the question asked
Of me when I was small, or later on
Of someone else unable to defend.
What do you want to be when you grow up?

But deep within I knew the truth behind
The questions adults ask, the truth that they
Themselves don't know: However big you get
You're only one half of the main event.

A prizefight isn't worth a dime against
Yourself; There is no prize to war alone,
And come back drenched in red. A poker face
Covered in blood still gives its secrets up.

What do you want to be when you grow up?
What's wrong with me, wait, am I not enough?