I was just a normal kid that wasn’t very popular or cool,
Never did I think that I.F. would choose me for battle school.
My brilliance was used like a tool and I was isolated from others,
After all that happened I still missed my father and mother.
My leadership finally gained me some friends,
As I used my wits and intelligence to defend.
I gradually took upon adapting to survive,
As my older self with responsibilities began to strive.
The Peter within me might come influence my doubts,
But my conscience is the gate that locks him out.
I worked hard, I worked long, and I worked endlessly to achieve,
I rarely fail, always understand, and never misconceive.
I am just a complex tool being used for saving humankind,
But whether or not buggers are our enemy is still a conflict in my mind.
I am forced to make decision’s as fast as chopping a kitchen knife,
I fear I can never go back to my plain old, peaceful life.