Wrestling with these thoughts
Pacing up and down these four walls
Trying to contort myself
Into feelings I don’t have
Hoping to Box myself into the calm
Contorting myself into someone
I could never be
Wishing I could just
Pull myself up by the bootstraps
Twiddle and twirl my moustache
And be the man I keep thinking I ought t be
An epitome of man and calm
But with assertiveness as my next charm
Perhaps if I part my receding hair to one side
And wear a pair of matching socks
Suit and maybe a tie
To strangle the feelings in a noose
I’ll become the man I envisioned
Instead of the patchwork of a man
Barley complete and far from calm.
manhood
patch man
….A stitched up boy
The world pulling at the seams
sewing on a new face
to hide what’s long since frayed
lips sewn tight
secrets contained beneath patched wounds
a mess of a man
meshed together
custom made
But not to measure
Knots
Why do men’s ties go around their necks like nooses?
Tightly fitted suits
Sun beaming
Too hot.
A wife & kids at home
Asks for a whiskey on the rocks
Resembles his marriage
Time is ticking.
Tick Tock.
Arriving home half-cocked
Trapped in that Windsor knot
Mortgages & picket fences
Looks like he’s got the lot
But he’s hitched to his work
Meanwhile the janitor doesn’t get paid much
But he’s still got his head
And that’s worth more than tying knots.
No man is here
I’m much too weak
To don this mask of manhood
I am much too angry
To be fueled by something good
I wish I could say I’d grown up
But I’m only here for the sake of showing up
Waiting room.
I’m not the best of men There is no hero Behind my eye sockets Unblinking to the aftermath Of human anguish Ready to take on the world Even if it hurts No. My body is just a derelict waiting room where a boy awaits Dressed in postman pat pj’s © 2016 April
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