Men Bleed a River Before They Cry

A knife stab on a man
Hurts as much on a kid

He has to remain mum
A brave face to cede

A woman on his side, on the other a son
Two souls to shield, emotions never freed

He has strength to lift a tonne
And more to make his tears recede

He holds the tears back like a dam
When his boiling anger feeds

His heartbreak may have no span
But he won’t flip a lid

Lucid is heartbreak to a woman
It is heart dust to a man crushed to plead

A moon ray in the absence of the sun
Sparkles a tear drop on his eyelid

When the world looks away he becomes human
Allows his tears to flow and dilute his bleeding

He knows crying a river killed no one
But bleeding a river did
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Shaw Avatar
February 12, 2020 at 5:33 PM
I like this poem Michelo, the last two lines hit it right home, good write . . .
Mweetwa Avatar
February 12, 2020 at 10:07 PM
Thank you Indiana
Barden Avatar
February 6, 2020 at 11:11 PM
I was raised with the the self-same expectation and twisted rule - "real" men don't cry ... I am thankful I learned the lie and escaped the emotional paralysis of that horrible misconception, (though in my marrow, I still feel guilty if I DO ... seems those early lessons never quite die). Great write, Michelo - going to my faves.
Mweetwa Avatar
February 7, 2020 at 12:10 AM
Thanks. Same cultural expectation here though I don't agree with it. It amounts to hidding ones true feeling in my view.
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