Even Men Cry- By Dennis Okoyo Poem by Dennis Poeta

He felt cold Eskimo,
his eyes closed..he is no more,
mouth zipped inside 'the box'
gone soon, or not soon,
gone to heaven or hell,
What matters? ......
he is dead!

A bird without feathers,
inside a pot...
Is it; or is it not a bird?
Then Magic,
one moment 'tis here
then the other its gone!

Tragic!
one time i was telling him i care,
Then the other he wasn't there.
Even men cry
I am left alone,
it isn't fair,
i sat on that room felling strong! ...NOT!

tears flowing as if i had given them a go-ahead,
Questions running in my head,
instead..
of answers to why you are dead?
now i know that...
Even Men cry

Why... do they tell me not to do it?
Why tell me not to cry?
this pain may be wound less on my skin,
but there is a hollow i my heart...
an unfilled crater,
that will take ages to quell its pangs.

Strong i may look,
but my strength fades,
my knees hobble,
tears ripe then i harvest..
and,
so i let go and cry...
the reason..
Even men cry