More by MFish
within my chest,
with little rest.
An irregular beat,
that skips along
but with rhythm
like a song.
the oldest son,
that loves life
of all others,
be they sisters
or our brothers.
We all are
of God's choice,
so please pray
for all your peers,
of all your fears.
I say to you.
You of all
know what to do.
You're a man now, don't you cry.
Words that still echo in my head.
To this day, coming from years past,
When being stoic, was not a choice,
But a state of deportment, for you.
It served me well, through the years,
To keep that "stiff upper lip."
So I was surprised, when one day
I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
A sad movie or tragic scene,
Demean me not in Public, you see,
For being stoic is what I am
Supposed to be, makes little sense.
I understand, but I must
Act like a man, not shed a tear.