Thursday, September 10, 2015
Be who they want you to be.
Do what they want you to do.
Say what they want you to say.
Stay how they want you to stay.
'Stop being a chick', they point.
'Oh, that's effeminate', they lament.
'Boys don't cry', is the adage.
Maybe, we're just not on the same page.
When did emotions become gender-ized?
When did expression gain a copyright?
When did politeness become meek?
When did silence become a tool of the weak?
Talk about women, drink and make hay.
If you can't do that, you're probably gay.
You're judged by the quantity of your hook-ups.
And the quality of your street fights and your bloody crook-ups.
If you're a Casanova, you're smart.
Oh well, a Prostitute knows the same art.
Sparkle your language with bouts of dirt.
That should do the trick, you pretentious flirt!
If you're different, it's obviously a stigma.
Or maybe you're just a boundless enigma.
It doesn't matter, what are your battles or your hopes.
You, my dear, are bound to be the butt of our jokes.
Those subtle moves, that sway of your hand.
The manner of your talk, the way you brush off that strand.
There's a sublime thread to it,
To which we shall add our judgment.
Boys will be boys, they're just born that way.
You either accept that code of conduct, or lead a life astray.
You laugh at my difference, I laugh at your similarity.
You laugh at my ignorance, I laugh at your familiarity.
We were never meant to be together, You and me.
The depths of my ocean could never be fathomed by your sea.
You see what your eyes show you.
You assume what your mind tells you to.
Break away your restrictive conventions young man,
And see a life with your heart, a person anew.
He's not as you want him to be.
He's not as you expect him to be.
He's just an object of your beration
And that sweetheart, adds to his liberation.
We've cried hoarse over the dearth of Feminism.
Let's get back to the cores and accept our Menifism.