From sinew to bone, from my eyes to yours, I am struck by this thing called manhood!
The halls ring all day long with the caustic sound of your half-truths and lies.
Shades of a man that once was are in evidence everywhere.
Upon the desk, scattered and painted with the fine caress of dusts’ playful anguish, I can see it all.
Piled high now, your unkept words, your wayward responsibilities laughingly haunt my dreams.
Such arrogance. Such bravado. Such shame. Yet you find glory in the hunger pains of those too weak to say enough, too weak to stand for themselves, too young to understand.
This then is your glory and your legacy. Yours is a heritage now begun under the clouds of deceit and cowardice.
There is no pause button here. Life has no more time nor riches to waste on what should have been glorious days of love and births and songs sung without hope’s loss…
I for one cannot abide your silence yet I crave your absence. I desire this void be filled with another more worthy than you.
I cannot teach you to love yourself. What fields of folly called you away on that day of learning is lost to me.
I cannot put steel in your spine. The water damage is too severe to repair.
I cannot give you sight. You poured too much hate into those soulless sockets.
I cannot open your understanding. Ears closed and capped with lies and whispers of false pride prevent further hearing though truth sings as loud as the siren song of a thousand space shuttles.
From sinew to bone, from my eyes to yours, I am lifted by this thing called womanhood.