Let Him Cry

As he cried out

from his swaddling cloth,

his mother's pupils turned a shade of strawberry,

the colour of adoration.

For he was gloriously alive.

-

As he cried out at his mothers grave,

his sadness was begging to be buried too.

Patted on the back with a man up;

by a hand that stamped

black poison in his mind.

-

As he fell into a new love;

a light strawberry canvas,

it soon became smothered

by dark cracks of loss

in those smudged inky lines.

-

As sadness gripped his throat,

he gripped hers harder.

Nail marks in his palm,

and white bloodless knuckles

were soothing his dusty, dry eyes.

-

As his heart had been stunted,

from the black stains in his mind.

Boys tears must be collected,

to put out fires of the men

whose tears were choked from them.