Let Him Cry
The power of male emotion.
By Daisy Shepherd-CrossPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read
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As he cried out
from his swaddling cloth,
his mother's pupils turned a shade of strawberry,
the colour of adoration.
For he was gloriously alive.
-
As he cried out at his mothers grave,
his sadness was begging to be buried too.
Patted on the back with a man up;
by a hand that stamped
black poison in his mind.
-
As he fell into a new love;
a light strawberry canvas,
it soon became smothered
by dark cracks of loss
in those smudged inky lines.
-
As sadness gripped his throat,
he gripped hers harder.
Nail marks in his palm,
and white bloodless knuckles
were soothing his dusty, dry eyes.
-
As his heart had been stunted,
from the black stains in his mind.
Boys tears must be collected,
to put out fires of the men
whose tears were choked from them.
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