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Dec 2018
I was taught to deny it.
But I know it's there.
I was made to suppress it,
and I tried to obey.
Sometimes the only way
that I can express it, is this
way, through the written word.
A visual healing of a sort. Be
a man they said. Big boys don't
cry they affirmed. But I think
that I suffer more by camouflaging
it that I would by declaring it
vocally. If I could just scream and
carry on at the top of my lungs,
perhaps I'd feel better. So, please
excuse me, while I screech, ignore
me while I curse, and pardon me
as I release loudly and vehemently
all the pain I've kept hidden in my
life.
David Lessard
Written by
David Lessard  75/M/Prescott, Arizona
(75/M/Prescott, Arizona)   
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