What It Whispers.

man.

When I was five, I ran straight through the lane

With beads of sweat trickling down

To outrun that enemy of mine

who stole my marbles, and shells that I treasured.

I slid down on the road, and scraped my knee,

Blood oozed out

And I cried profusely,

I whined to mama, aunt, and grandma,

And they told me that no more tears shall trickle down,

Because boys don't cry.

My sister had a fall the next day,

I called her ugly, and a naïve little worm,

And such a girl,

As though it was disgusting,

For she had just shed that unholy liquid from her eyes,

Ugly pearls of  tears!

But she was a girl, and she could do that unholy weak thing

every now and then. Unlike the boyish me.

_________________________________________________________

When I was sixteen,

I fell in love.

Or so I thought.

Pretty girl, petite, and a voice to kill,

She had my heart under her feet.

Of course, to later trample upon,

But little did I know back then.

She held my gaze and would smile,

Every gesture 

Was inviting,

I held back,

But she kept looking, 

"Let's be friends", she had initiated,

Didn't have words, didn't dare to look up,

Didn't hold hands, didn't even talk more than a silly two minutes,

But I dreamt everyday.

Gathering all the courage, after a year of teasing,

At seventeen,

I told her that she had me wrapped around her finger.

She smiled and retreated back,

to never come back.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into a month,

I saw no more of her.

However a little note was sent,

"A good lad you are, but at seventeen, a girl looks for a man,

I'm afraid that your bashfulness isn't manly enough."

The heart under her feet was trampled upon,

It bled, and I knew that all the two minutes that she had talked to me

Would haunt me forever. But what would scar me was that

I wasn't manly enough.

But they taught me boys don't cry,

So, shall a man can now?

As tears slipped by, I held them back,

A soliloquy left my throat,