The Female and Male Dynamic …

As I lay, catatonic, on the cold concrete ground,

you picked me up when I was the most fragile, with whispers of your voice the only sound.

You soothed my wounds, you stemmed the blood,

you lifted me up, holding me as I lay mired in life’s mud.

My days had been pockmarked with episodes of emptiness and gloom,

it was you who lifted the blinding shroud, bathing me in the sunlight, dispelling the encroaching doom.

You pulled me, yanked me back from the yawning abyss,

you took me into your life, filling my days and nights with peace and bliss.

Then, as so many men do, I took you and your love for granted, squashing the roses you had so lovingly planted.

You stayed with me through my indifference, quietly nursing your pain, while my memory was ghastly, as I conveniently ignored that it was you, who helped me up to my feet again, assisting me to regain my youth,

I chipped at your love, chiselling away a lack of empathy and of truth, my behaviour like so many of my gender, ungrateful and uncouth.

You stuck it out for as long as you could, you still had hope that in time I would, be the man you dug out of the mire with your own bare hands,

yet my conceit, my ever inflating arrogance, my ‘male ego’ was all that remained of that man you loved, without even traces of our love, slipping through my fingers like apathetic strands.

Though my callous actions were personal and without an inch of gratitude,

it is common amongst my gender, to be this selfish, so puffed-up on machismo, so lost in our male superficial impotent attitude.

I know now that my actions were distasteful, to say the least, and I cannot take the tears as they flow.

I shall not even try to beg apologies, for they are hollow, and as worthless as male contrition go.

Is this how the male of the species behaves, when love takes him in and offers solace immeasurable,

when he once again stands on his feet, and his macho ego is healed and back to its ugly self, why does he willfully blind himself to become merely bearable.

I have failed as a man, as a human being, to so many pure souls who have been my safe haven, who have offered me their love,

their kindest love in times when I needed it most, they showered me with tender care like the soft rains above.

What else can I say as a man, the misogynist, the sexist, the predator, the absentee father, the abusive husband, the child molester, the man who is fuelled by nothing more than the lust for power,

the man who twists words, gaslights, and always, always, takes pleasure when all others in front of him cower.