Iron and baby blue
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He is iron and I am baby blue.
It is raining and my father is the dark cloud that barbarically devours all dignity depriving accusations of his crying when the cold heavy rain comes pouring down like a blanket of drizzled icy raindrops that cut through and scatter over our goosebump prickled skin.
[A free verse poem about the expectations of masculinity for young men in today's society and the stripping of individuality and uniqueness of colorful young spirits during their time of growth due to social and traditional expectations, especially in family settings.]
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