This poem is dedicated to all the men out there who are continuing to fight even when you feel like giving up. You’re all champions.

I am a man

Sent to war

Brainwashed by the elite

Yelling in the street

Everybody I meet

Gives silent screams

Dreams into nightmares

Those liars aren’t being coy

They know I’m just a boy

Sent to die in a foreign land

Lend me your hand

Cos I’m scared, I have a short lifespan

But I grin and bear it, because I’m just a man

I am a man,

Without a home,

Always alone

Dog without a bone

Freezing my arse

Cos of my class

Spare some change I say

Day after day

But they continue on their way

Prancing along

I sing the same old song

I’m too cold

Too old

To be relying on handouts

Rather than myself

Like a real man is supposed to do

I am a man with depression,

Constant repression, oppression

Of the hole in my head

I trudge out of bed,

Smile on my face

Keeping pace

With everybody laughing at me

Pointing at me

Whispering at me

The tears threaten to fall,

But I keep my head tall,

I can’t be weak,

Makes me a freak,

What are you whining about, they say?

Others have it worse they say,

Don’t be a pussy, they say.

Grow some bollocks they say.

Be a man, they say.

I’m trying,

Even when I’m crying

So scared to feel,

To be real,

Because if I start, I won’t be able to stop.

I am a man,

Single father to my daughter

Keeping our heads above water,

The anxiety pushing me into overdrive

Trying to survive

Always staying strong

But this has gone on too long

Because I’m both father and mother

No other

Just me

I am a man

On the brink of collapse

Relapse into addiction

Drinking the money away

Like a fucking cliché

No release from the stress

The aggravation, the frustration

At my situation

Screaming into the void

And yes I sound annoyed

Because I want somebody to listen

I am a man,

Taking my own life

On the knife edge of death

Every breath under pressure

No pleasure


What if I close my eyes and never wake up?

And me?

I’m a man.

A poet.

A hypocrite.

Full of shit.

Speaking from my entitled, privileged place,

No stress etched on my face,

What do I know about the man on the street?

The single fathers?

The men with PTSD from seeing too much,

One step away from ending it all,

So I call

All men to come together

Forever, share your pain, your glory,

Tell them all your story

Write, paint speak, sing, scream,

We’ll turn that nightmare back into a dream,

Because it’s okay to not be okay,

Doesn’t make you weak

Or a freak

Or a little bitch

Spare me the pitch

It’s okay to cry

And that’s no lie

Just remember that when life pushes you to the brink

You’re a man

And you’re stronger than you think.

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