Red Pill Poem Poem by David Welch

You say we're all one thought away
from seeing a woman and having a rape,
then proclaim we're patriarchal monsters
if we act like gentlemen on a date.
You say that you have no need of us,
that it's a glorious, feminine age,
but we're still the ones killing spiders,
and at diner it's assumed that we pay.
We're expected to know that talking
is the way that women show love,
but God forbid you point out that for men
showing affection might mean getting some.
It seems that these days, increasingly so,
that many men have had their fill,
is it any surprise so many of them
are now sucking down those red pills?

You say that men should know their feelings,
be more in touch with their feminine side,
but I can't help but notice that at last call
you don't go home with nice, beta guys.
You pick up a man with tattoos and a tan,
take them home for a raw, wild night,
declare that you're going to ‘change the bad boy, '
then lose interest if he follows your advice.
You say the very idea of masculinity
is outdated, outmoded, and old,
but can't help but admit that the ‘modern man'
leaves you bored, unexcited, and cold.
Where once the hunt was part of the game,
destined to give both sides a thrill,
now it's a muddle of criss-crossed signals,
and those sick of it take the red pills.

You like to portray us as witless fools
on big movie and television screens,
and oftentimes you say that we are selfish
if we still desire to pursue our dreams.
We built up a world obscenely rich,
so rich our poor people are fat,
no appreciation is given for this,
you assume the world is just ‘like that.'
We're expected to be grateful for you,
that there's no higher good than this,
but if we ask you to be grateful in return
you proclaim that it's ‘not feminist.'
It doesn't seem much to ask for respect,
for we still foot much of this bill,
instead you label us all toxic,
and we're stocking up on those red pills.

If we marry you and things go wrong,
we're expected to pay for your life,
even though you mostly all have jobs
alimony haunts our dreams at night.
And should there have been any kids
we can kiss time with them good-bye,
the family courts aren't fond of us,
over eighty percent of the time.
With a simple lie or an accusation
you can make us all out to be freaks,
and if we dare argue against it all
you claim, "woman must be believed! "
Then you turn around and wonder why
you can't find a man of good will,
you had them once, but now they're busy
swallowing down those red pills.