The world is hollow
And I am just a guy
I find it hard to swallow,
But logic must apply

Without it, I am lost
There's no alternative
I wish I knew the cost
To live how I want to live

You can't erase your face.
You can't retrace or displace
the lines you dislike.
Some people try. Why?
At best it makes a mess.

Why am I upset by a little extra bone?
The external effects of my natural testosterone?
How can a bit of unwanted hair excite despair?
Why do I care?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I pointlessly worry
about silly points
like the size of my shoulders
or my knee and thumb joints.
My hairline, my brow ridge,
the shape of my nose,
my masculine pelvis,
my crooked man toes...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My eyes are fine --
My only feature I like.
My shy smile is alright
but not too wide
'cause of my overbite --
-- the size of those incisors!

Now, some would say that I'm just vain,
so self-obsessed I've gone insane.
But I would say that's how we're trained,
At least in this day and age.

Others might paint me like Dorian Gray
praying to Satan for youth to stay,
but I just wish it hadn't gone this way.

Why would you keep your looks immutable
if you were never to begin with beautiful?

My Body cannot Cry,
but my Soul Screams Eternally

Vocal ingenuity
A generous gratuity
I wish could be removed from me
But I would still write poetry

--Which someone else would have to read
As from the page the inkblots plead
"Give us a voice!" the letters said
Without a voice they would be dead

But no-one reads my poetry
And so its voice is left to me
To show the World, or just to try
Be truly heard before I die

That guy, that boy, that man.
The words roll round my head,
Like a big bingo cage,
Full of thin razor blades.