Today I saw a boy cry.
Not a boy
A man.

He was 27.
He talked about how the power of words made life difficult
That the "I do's" he once shared with his wife were strange words
How his daughter would never understand him

You see all of the words he ever spoke were
long and broken
He never had a complete thought leave his scattered mind
because of this he cried in the uncomfortable silence

In the middle of WR 213,
about his own free write

I'd never seen a boy cry before.
I mean a man.
I'd never seen a man cry before.
It was uncomfortable, but i'm not ashamed to say that it all made sense.