A Man Of Forty Poem by Masiela Lusha

A Man Of Forty

Rating: 4.3

A man of forty. Forty years the child.
His eyes don't see me but his mother.
His past. And like a child he wanders
Clean through the tunnels of his time.
And lost logic, and found regret.
His history plays inside his eyes,
and his fingers play with his pain,
He doesn't play with logic. Logic
Can't be found in this child's fate.
And like a mother I care for him.
But I don't know him- He seems to know me
And cannot smile. His eyes only drift
From my lips, to his mother's hair;
And without a word, he reveals his wrists.
His manly wrists with tiny spots of pain.
If I could I would kiss his wrists.
If I had half the courage to face his pain.

Eddie Roa 12 January 2009

Hi! I’m Eddie Roa and I just got in to this website. By chance I came across your name in the list of poets and read some of your works. I have posted some of my poems today and yesterday. My style ranges from light to dark poetry (modern enough but not postmodern) and some Japanese verse forms like haiku, senryu and tanka. I hope you will bother to check out my work. Thanks and happy writing.

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Brian Dorn 03 September 2006

Masiela, seeing the title and being exactly forty myself, I had no choice but to read. A stirring mixture of vulnerability and empathy... really quite moving. Well done! ! Brian

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William Jackson 15 July 2006

I would not change a thing about this poem. It is a splendid reminder that everyone is someone's baby, even shattered men in their forties or older wish for their mothers to ease their pain. And if their pain is severe enough, they will in their dementia see their mothers in the kindness of others.

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Sam Gg 11 July 2006

nice done u r so great writer

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BEAU GOLDEN 11 July 2006

masiela this poem is a beautiful work of art. i love to reread it.

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Masiela Lusha

Tirana, Albania
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