Be Not A Real Man Poem by Rod M.Peters

Be not a real man, my boy
When you grow up
For that will surely pull awry
Many faces in disgust.
Profess to care only for the feelings
Of the bland creatures of the world
Who claim to have been maligned,
Scorned, dispossessed,
Or looked upon with judgemental stares
From the hard, uncaring faces
Swelling the throngs of the Privileged.

Unless you do so
You will be deemed uncaring,
Devoid of compassion,
Secretly sworn to the ungracious task
Of poking sharp pins on the balloons
Of their precious uniqueness.

Tread carefully into all those 'safe spaces'
Paved with eggshells that will loudly decry
Any mildly stomping pride,
And shower praises for the laudable 'inclusiveness'
Of all those taking refuge there,
And never dare to question
If their claim to victimhood stems
From real wrongdoings
Or from their own failure to overcome
Even the pedestrian challenges of life.

If forced to speak to strangers
Beware of the snares and traps they're bound
To scatter all about you
To see if you care enough for the
Nebulous phantom of universal justice
Or the merits of their religious zeal
Or their thinly veiled ideologies of hatred,
But know that they always
Carry their toes unshod
Hoping to claim that you
Unceremoniously stepped on them.

Yes, be always a shepherd to softly spoken words
And kind feelings of commiseration
And if but one unruly thought dares to
Break away from the flock
Hasten to bring it back into the fold
Before it tramples on the tender pastures
Of the thin-skinned,
For no effort will be too strenuous
To ensure the new order of things
Will remain unchallenged
If it takes blotting your own light
Out of the firmament.

But above all, my boy,
Make sure to always walk unnoticed,
Under shading parapets or unlit alleyways,
With your face turned down
So they never catch a glimpse of
Those red-hot charcoal eyes of yours.