By D. R. DiFrancesco

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Secrets clutched tightly to our breast

Scared to show vulnerability

Hiding those things which make us cry, make us bleed

From a world we don’t think could understand.

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Are we untrue to ourselves

The lies we hide deep within our hearts

Beat rhythmically to escape the fleshy prison

Only to be pushed back into the darkest recesses of our souls.

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No one is immune

Deceitful is he who denies his susceptibility

Who has breathed that has not hidden his weakness

Protection from our humanity.

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Our society prides strength

Scoffing at compassion and emotion as if a sign of frailty

This is absurd, yet it resonates loudly among us

So we shelter that which makes us mortal.

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Maleness dictates the subjugation of feelings

One cannot be strong and show emotion

So we masquerade them in anger and violence

Unleashing rage through pestilence and war.

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Our progeny suffers

Families torn asunder in fits of acrimony

Childhoods left in tatters by pent up defiance

Fallen to the tragedy of shame.

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Depression festers, virulent and deadly

A secret best left unmentioned in polite circles

An illness of the mind cannot be real

You are a man, you must act like one.

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The imposition of this philosophy is for fools

Harmful and destructive to the mind, body and soul

Anxiety, depression, suicide the unwelcome victor

Do these secrets make you proud.