my name is Stella
at the end of the day
they come to rest on my breasts
men with important jobs
men with issues at home
who needs tissues
to wipe off their shameful tears
they come in different colors and needs
men with timeframes to finish projects
men with egos to protect,
men with a lot to hide even from their loved ones
they come to rest on my breasts,
to cry, to shout, to bite and to curse social norms
that got them in unwanted marriages
that got them in unwanted sodomy from their church priests
they come at the end of the day, every day –
to take a brief break from their easy lives, and rest on my breasts –
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
