We were Big Boys or Little Men.
Which is better when the sky falls?
Are we shoveling the coal at the core
Of a steam powered planet of protest?
Does the duck tape come in assorted flavors?
Anything to make the silence easier.
We the 'Beasts' have had our chances
But to be a 'Pet' means to devolve
To be owned means to be docile
To be needed, we have to be Men again
Nature won't release us back into the wild....
Until the logic yields to the instinct to survive.
There were times when we ate like Pigs and loved like Brutes.
We bullied and grabbed and lamented under the weight of change.
We were shocking. And our mother's sighed.
We mimicked our father's silent stares
But we were Builders too.
And we were Scientists and Soldiers
unafraid of the votes lost on Capital Hill
We ate are meat, still a little bloody
And our sons were the salt of the earth.
The world needed change and we needed to grow.
Those who couldn't, said so and were banned.
Those who did, bit their tongues as the world discounted nature altogether.
The heavy lifting was equally distributed on paper.
But reality is no place for comfortable ideas.
Our words must be tangible and practiced or they will only be gold in a poor village. A valuable imagination.
Is it okay to be Men again?
If all the lessons have been learned and all the marriages included by law, can we be trusted again?
To be what we were designed to be...
Unapologetically Male.
YOU ARE READING
SIDE PIECE
RandomAn offering of small tales laced with intrigue and delights. Sometimes I need an escape from topical poetry in the pursuit of more fantastical renderings. No rules, no boundaries, no truth in the lies. Yet, when you live in the lie everything inside...
