from google

Life, delusions, and Scribbled Verse …

I remain alone, never letting anyone in, my ramparts solid, my walls tall and impregnable,

I remain alone, always dousing the hope, my words of departure articulate and allowing me to unashamedly mope,

I choose this lonesome way, having tasted the nectar of love, and punishing it to always slip away,

I have chosen this path of quiet solitude, the cowardly one, shrouding my heart with armour, knowing I lack the fortitude.

Love has touched me deeply, I have loved with all my might, I have immersed myself in the cauldron of desire, yet I always seem to deliberately douse the fire,

these are not easy confessions to make, to share my inability to walk the long path of love, to always look for that escape, leaving good pure hearts scattered, as I search for the window where I can my slipping away make,

these scribbled words tear into my heart, puncturing my soul, fracturing my mind, as I sit and wonder why it is that I choose to never be whole,

I make no excuses, I sputter no half-baked reasons for my fleeing from love, while I have hurt the gentlest souls, the ones who deserved so much more, not the cowardice of a man, who always seems to find the exit door.

These words sound to me like comfortable self-pity, so easy for me to accept no blame, laying it all out, yet still brimming with the moping of the lying man, who feels no remorse, who will not accept the shame,

these hollow words as empty as the “it is not you, it is me” cop-out refrain, so easily blabbered forth, so conveniently absolving me of the cause of any pain,

how many times have these callous words been spoken, how they have fractured loves that were real, how many times have they left good souls broken,

and still my conceit above says it all, my belief that I have the power to cause fractured hearts and injured souls, the hubris of man who believes himself able, to injure the ‘weaker sex’, for ‘man is so much more capable’.

I rail against misogyny in my scribbled verse, I damn the narrow mindedness of male chauvinism, it is I who so effortlessly dons the mask of the ‘liberated man’, all the while it is I who am a part of my genders’ ‘entitled’ clan,

oh yes, I scribble against this evil and that injustice, I speak the loudest, claiming to be progressive in thought and in mind, but it is I who refuses to see, the vestiges of male superiority, which tightly do me bind,

what becomes of this world when so-called ‘unchained’ men like myself live in our cocoons of self-righteous comfort, what becomes of the struggle for gender equality, what is the future when I spout my egalitarian beliefs, so hypocritically solemn, while I am blinded by the fact, that I am part of the festering problem,

yes, I wave the rainbow flag and I shriek out the necessary slogans, I march alongside my ‘sisters’, I pour my drivel scribbled on pages as I delude myself that I really do give a damn,

what happens next for this world of inequity, this world of abuse, this world of gender-based violence, this world of female genital mutilation, this world of women enslaved by man’s convenient norms of male-centred religion, this world of the shackles of oh-so convenient culture and tradition,

what happens to this world when those empty like me beat the drum of giving a damn,

when all in all, when it is boiled down to the harshest truth,

I remain the ever hypocritical man?

from google