Men Don't Cry

I was told it was a feeble sign for a man

To show tears rolling down his eyes

It would show a shame for himself, for he could not

Master the emotions as a rock, solid stone

Men are born to be strong, but even mountains

Crack and fall under pressure, under tremendous stress

Men have flesh not stones, and flesh is way weaker

He has been put under the illusion from a tender age that

The flow of tears is banned, which is unorthodox for him.

 Indeed, men don’t cry but they sweat 

To let out the pain that has wandered under their skin

To leaking out, while his prideful eyes

Stay intact, supposedly unaffected in the view of others

But if looked closer, he is sweating badly

For he is doing everything possible to alleviate his sufferings

Men are not supposed to shed a single drop of water 

Ironically, I have always wondered about the sad fact

That we, men, are forbidden from the freedom

Of expressing miseries through the manifestation of tears

Therefore, Men are those humans who hardly voice out 

Their pain, they are those cliffs that need to stay strong 

Despite waves of desperations smash upon them

They are told to be the head, the head that

Stay up when everything goes wrong

Men don’t cry, they bleed instead

They bleed of blood and water

Under the pretext of hard feats, under

Every pretext, though humans, including men

Do have the right to say yes and weep