A man he was, who had to hide his pain.
‘Why?’, you ask; because society said!
‘Be a man, stay strong.’ Is all he hears.
With tired eyes and drenched in fear,
Tell me how will he move on?
For all the wicked dreams’,
Telling him the same thing,
Over and over the agony.
To the broken pieces and the shattered dream,
He is a man in his fifties.
I see him in all,
at my place or in the crowd.
I feel his pain,
The blood and tears unsaid.
‘But he is strong’, they say.
Shivering I see,
Gritting I hear,
His struggle is clear.
But what do I say to all these blind eyes?
how do I explain this ache inside?
It feels like losing a war, you’ve never fought.
When your heart drops ten meters in your guts.
I am screaming while sinking into the quicksand.
There is no exit but hope is all I have,
‘Stop acting like a girl’, is what they say.
‘Aren’t we all just humans?’ he questions.
‘Is my fear so supernatural?’.
‘Am I not supposed to have feelings?’.
‘Should I always be the one silently weeping’.
He is tired, scared and disgusted of the same notion.
He wants to give up, jump off.
Leave behind the pain forever.
He is done with all the pushing,
Twisting a knife is easy,
All these thoughts swirling around,
‘Enough is enough’, he says.
‘I will not endure this anymore’.
‘I will not die every second that I live’.
‘I will conquer or let go because forever seems like a long road’.