They tell him he is not a flower,
not soft, not meant to sway.
A man must stand like oak and iron,
unbending in the storm’s display.
But even mountains crack with time,
and rivers carve through stone.
Still, he tucks his petals inward,
pretending he is made of bone.
He’s taught that thorns are armor,
that roots must never show,
that to bloom is to be broken,
that to weep is to let go.
But flowers starved of rain will wither,
left to shrivel in the heat.
And men, too, will turn to silence,
fearing softness makes them weak.
So let them bloom, let them bend,
let them speak their pain in sight.
For a flower wilts not from the wind,
but from the absence of its light.
This poem explores the delicate nature of emotions and challenges the societal expectation that men must be unyielding and stoic. The flower metaphor represents both the vulnerability and strength inherent in all people, suggesting that emotions, like flowers, need space to grow and thrive. Toxic masculinity, however, teaches men to hide their feelings, to suppress their emotional needs, and to adopt a rigid, unbending exterior.
