My Fragile Masculinity

My Fragile Masculinity
© Surazeus
2018 07 19

The velociraptor of my hungry heart
leaps faster than the meteor of contempt
which destroys the world where I ruled as king
so I transform into the poete maudit.

Serene outside the quaint sidewalk cafe,
I sip ginger mocha and write haiku
in small moleskin notebook with fountain pen
dipped in the blood of my velociraptor.

I think about every cute girl I slept with
while I outline events of my strange life
and feel pang of guilt at how I behaved
with boorish arrogance of my frail ego.

I broke the heart of every girl I loved
and fractured trust she might have had in men
because my fragile masculinity
betrayed me into loving my false self.

I never loved those girls just for themselves,
instead projecting onto their true hearts
idol of what I wanted them to be,
and spewed anger when they played their own part.

Now I must learn to see beyond the veil
of how I want them to be for my ego,
and perceive the beauty of their own souls
to cherish the real human beings they are.

From glow of sunlight the beautiful girl
strides with confidence, hair blowing in wind,
so I imagine her as governor
then nod with respect as she flashes by.

The world is full of intelligent women
whose patience and compassion run our nations
so I vow to support them in their work
and treat every one with honest respect.