Sunday, June 9, 2024


 Boys to Men

Some men look like little boys

Trapped in giant bodies

With their gray hairs and ill fitting shirts

Pinched faces of petulant ire

After so many years 

Not being taken seriously 

Then there are the little boys

Coming home from school

Who look like beatdown men 

Just getting off a ten hour shift

At the metal processing factory.

Carved frowns hinting 

At the jowls to come.

They sit at quiet kitchen tables

In empty houses alone

Eating snacks

Before homework and chores.

The men who never lose 

Their boyish mien

Wage war against the boys

Of hardened visage

When they grow up.

It ends the way it always ends:

With scrapes and bruises and burial

Mounds of unspeakable tragedy.

All that remain

Are the boys who look like boys

Playing in the backyard dusk

And then the men 

Who look like men 

Concealing silent wars

Fought within themselves

For as long as they can.

They save their final doubts

And anguished tears for when no one is home.

Every day is a battle to stay alive. 

Thrashed by the froth and churn 

They man the helm

Until their sons are ready

To take a turn 


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