A poem on the negligence of the boy-child and the danger this act harbours
Do you see us when we cry?
When we try to hide our faces in the sand?
have you ever thought it through,
That these people might be hurt too
Do we seem like we do not have pain receptors in us?
Nay, we are born out of bone and blood
We also feel the same pain you do
Only that the would sees us as weak and your strong when we show it
Do we seem like goats
We do not need to be told
“You are a man, be one”
Will you tell these words to my boy when I am gone?
Of course, I am a boy!
Is that a curse?
Can I not feel hurt as well?
Or will you only notice my tears when I drown in the well
Please look into my eyes and tell me
It’s okay to be a hurt boy.
Give your boy freedom to make his own mistakes early, and he will become a man sooner. Control him and try to keep him out of trouble, and he will be slow to learn how to become a man.
I'm sure that many of father has gone through what you are going through. Some sons have a hard time growing up.
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I'm sure that many of father has gone through what you are going through. Some sons have a hard time growing up.
Ron
Your poem is so true.
Amen!
"Only that the world sees us as...."?
Sandie