Big Boys don't cry--Do They?
By
Jude Kyrie

You must know this
before I begin this story
I was only a teenage boy
way back then.
I was definitely not a safe place
to be called home.

She was even younger than I was.
We were not just ready—for---marriage
or anything close to it.
it still does not excuse what we did.
somethings have no forgiveness.

Since that long ago day
I have always wanted a daughter.
I know she will never come.
It is my burden--
Mea Culpa, My fault.

I sat in the beat up old car
In the car park of the clinic.
Whilst she went through ---with ----it.

I am a man's man.
I never cry....ever.
But the tears flowed then.
down my young face relentlessly.
My breath was spent from sobbing.
I could not stop the tears.

I know now I should not
have tried to stop them.
For I was in mourning
for the daughter
That I shall never have now.

Even after  all these years.
On quiet summer days
when the lake shimmers
in the bright sunlight.
And the perfumed magnolias bloom.
I see a young teenage girl
nubile and innocent.
swimming in the safe
calm waters of the lake.

The sky is clear and blue over her
and the sunlight
warms her with a loving future
of great possibilities.
.
And for a moment
i see myself in the old
dented Oldsmobile.
i am weeping like
an inconsolable child.
and I touch my cheeks.
and find the teardrops
are back just like before.