A Man's World
The hue of his baritone is dark as bleached knuckles
No one sees the rivers of tears lying within
His bulging biceps stands firm as iron pillars
Pillars, weak enough to carry his heavy heart,
A heart weighted by years of soft silence
He cried the loudest when he was born,
Roaring out to the world in naked triumph
But soon, his tears turned into ice,
Ice that formed his heart,
Heart that only melted into the feathers of his pillow
He is told to be a man, even before he becomes a man
And he lost his innocence; that which makes him stronger
Little wonder it is a man's world,
For he wills no one to share its weight
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