A poem on how we boys are being treated alien in our own home, earth.
We are not always strong and we are not stones.
WHY SHOULD I?
Why should I hold it in?
Is my heart an inn?
Why should I not say when I have been hurt?
Will you only learn the evil your shunning made me do when I become a member of the dreaded cults?
Why can I not cry too?
Why does my pains have to be kept mute?
Will you only see the pain in my perforated heart after I go home
Beyond this phase, transcendence into the metaphysical zone?
I am human,
Born of skin and bone
Not made of rocks and stones
I have a right to be sad.
So why will you tell me to hide my face,
Beneath the dwellings of the bed sheet
And under the railing of my own skin
Why, I still wonder why?
If you can tell me your pain
Maybe I can ease you by telling you the shame coming out to tell the world what boys suffer brings to my name.
Some parents would favor one child over another, but in reality, all children are unique. Each holds their own character. Please be yourself and don't ever change. Be bold. Stand up for your own rights.
Always be in the company of friends and relative who see your good points. Don't ever let anyone put you down for whatever reasons.
Your poem deeply touched my heart. As the mother of two sons I always encouraged them to show their emotions and confide in me when they needed to. Unfortunately, most of the world tells them to keep silent and hold it all inside. A insightful look at a boy's heart. Thank you for sharing.
Ezra's a closeted medium. She's a novelist who writes stories about seeing dead people and claims they're fiction. Her life with Grant was peaceful until a rebel ghost named Jenna entered her life who doesn't like Grant. Allie, the resident ghost, li
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Always be in the company of friends and relative who see your good points. Don't ever let anyone put you down for whatever reasons.
Sandie
Ron