Permission to Cry? This poem is not for females, Is not for wives or witches or For gals and their horny friends. This bawling poem is for boys Of all ages and their fathers. This poem is for strong men Weakened by expectations. This poem is for mi bredrin dem Who cannot adequately explain The feelings welling up inside.... This poem is for all men who Longed to be understood by Man, by woman & by society, Men crushed and hit for six. This poem is permission to cry. Bawl when you lose a loved one. Cry when you caan tek no more. Bawl when you lose yuh job. Cry when you get promoted. Bawl when yuh picney graduate. This poem is a hug for mi likkle Bredda...him nuh talk much but You can see the pain, the anguish Of clenched jaws squeezing back Tears that begs an escape route. This poem is for fathers who Tried their best, but their best was Never good enough and it hurts. This poem is for di man dem who Heard "your son is not your son" This poem is for the angry youths With no one to hear their feelings. Told bawling is not an option so The other option is dem pump Action, guns & ammo blazing. And when the firing finally stops Mothers, sisters and aunts a bawl Fi dem nephew, fi dem bredda, Fi dem husband and fi dem son While men stare... empty & numb. Brian "MeSeh" Morrison April 1, 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Mutabaruka... you have the copyright
Permission to Cry?
This poem is not for females,
Is not for wives or witches or
For gals and their horny friends.
This bawling poem is for boys
Of all ages and their fathers.
This poem is for strong men
Weakened by expectations.
This poem is for mi bredrin dem
Who cannot adequately explain
The feelings welling up inside....
This poem is for all men who
Longed to be understood by
Man, by woman & by society,
Men crushed and hit for six.
This poem is permission to cry.
Bawl when you lose a loved one.
Cry when you caan tek no more.
Bawl when you lose yuh job.
Cry when you get promoted.
Bawl when yuh picney graduate.
This poem is a hug for mi likkle
Bredda...him nuh talk much but
You can see the pain, the anguish
Of clenched jaws squeezing back
Tears that begs an escape route.
This poem is for fathers who
Tried their best, but their best was
Never good enough and it hurts.
This poem is for di man dem who
Heard "your son is not your son"
This poem is for the angry youths
With no one to hear their feelings.
Told bawling is not an option so
The other option is dem pump
Action, guns & ammo blazing.
And when the firing finally stops
Mothers, sisters and aunts a bawl
Fi dem nephew, fi dem bredda,
Fi dem husband and fi dem son
While men stare... empty & numb.
Brian "MeSeh" Morrison
April 1, 2024
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
@@brianmorrison6637 Big!