Boys Don'T Cry Poem by Scott J. Shepard

In order
there is a division
She was above vitality
Dropping prisoners to their own realities
victims to villainy and identity

to riven the gaps
the division that entitles
the dominate
and the galls bridled

more feminine and passive
to feel where intimation lays
and curtsy the rain to wash away
with forty winks to the incongruent peak
the idea that blinds
that billows without compassion

one with a fierce manner
the other, a disposition that manages
where all else was a means to end

the most brutal love
an eye across was not blind
to the whims of a woman’s wounds
a little better than when they came in

and on awakening within his eyes
the man alone in two arenas
of night and day
and their morning social tea

the senses bent the spectrum
that privileges an awareness
by the grain

the interior design of his own
patterned pallets
to be a second opinion
this second world

spinning bias backwardness
clouded, ignored or unnoticed
flipped upside down

Spilling the girl
The other, a second insight
Beyond flesh and blood
With no division tedious in nature
The laws that formulate
A passive, a poised
An expressive arch