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"Illusions of Love"

Judged at every stage, condemned from the start,
Labelled and demonized—torn apart.
Mistreated, ill-treated, seen as a threat,
Running for safety but never safe yet.

Love, an illusion, elusive at best,
A dream we chase but never possess.
Mother, grandmother, lover, or wife—
All turn cold, cutting deep like a knife.

From society’s glare to the home’s dark gaze,
The criticism burns in a thousand cruel ways.
Words as a weapon, sharp as a scalpel,
Leaving us scarred, doubting our price.

How can we be good fathers, strong men of grace,
When the ones meant to hold us throw shame in our face?
Every embrace feels laced with disdain,
And hope fades under this unending pain.

The system is brutal, but what cuts even more,
Is seeking refuge in hearts turned cold.
Negative, bitter, vibrations that kill,
Turning love into poison, making joy stand still.

Judge, jury, executioner in every small fight,
Swift to emasculate, draining our light.
From living rooms to sidewalks, we’re stripped of our pride,
Nowhere to stand, nowhere to hide.

Mistreated, ill-treated, the cycle goes on,
The man disappears, and the boy is withdrawn.
Love becomes nothing but a dangerous snare,
A mirage in the desert, dissolving in thin air.

So when they ask why some of us can’t be good men—
Remember the shackles, the wounds deep within.
For a heart that’s been shattered by those it adored
Can never grow whole, when it’s always at war.

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