I Keep Dangerous Company

I keep dangerous company—

not because they fight,

but because they feel.

Men who know the weight

of their own silence.

Men who’ve bled privately

so the world would never

lose faith in them.

I walk with the ones

who carry their anger

like flint—

never to burn the room,

only to spark the truth

when it’s time

to speak it.

My circle isn’t loud.

We aren’t the men

the world warns you about—

we’re the men it underestimates.

The ones with spines

built from forgiveness,

and hands

steady enough

to choose gentleness

over glory.

Dangerous—

because we refuse the hardness

the world tried

to make normal.

Dangerous—

because we don’t mistake

dominance for power,

or softness for weakness.

Dangerous—

because we can be broken

and still be righteous.

The kind of men

who protect peace

like it’s breath,

and protect others

like it’s purpose.

I keep dangerous company—

men who could’ve become storms,

but learned how to become shelter.

And if that makes us dangerous,

good.

The world needs

a different kind of threat.

The kind made of men

who’ve survived the dark

and chose, anyway,

to be light.