My effusions

To be a man

An African,

They tell us

Command, instill, coerce,

You must not cry.

Even when you are happy

In ecstasy,

Keep it bottled in

Insignificant, superficial, thin,

You dare not cry.

So though I love you

Miss you,

Though my words and actions have no impact

Obtusely, gently or with tact,

I will not cry.

But I want to

Damn Ubantu,

To let my feelings out

Whisper, speak, shout.

And yes even cry.

I have tried

Gone cross –eyed,

With this the fire of my baptize

With the strain, effort, exercise,

But I cannot cry.