All you have to do is be a man.
These words bled through my veins with disgust.
A man he said, does not smile
The flat line of his lips laid across the lower half of his face and read empty.
Shocked I was, when he told me that a man does not find joy in little things.
The leather skin palms that have seen more death than life.
A man he said, does not clean
A brain in his head, full of reasons why he can never show affection.
My arms wanting to do nothing more than wrap them around him.
Love may not be the answer to everything
A man he said, will never back down
His eyes burned, when I backed down
The ocean between will never be filled.
May the waves of tomorrow be ever calm.
As our callused palms met in between the peace treaty we signed in our heads,
The muscles in his face relaxed.
Not one more word was said.
His presence stands over me like an angry sun.
Burnt and shriveled.
I shall return home.
Just some thoughts about what a man really is. It is interesting to think of it in the perspective of an elder in a village or a father in a village than what I grew up with in a city.