Be a man.
Grow some cojones.
Why do you lie on the floor?
Holding your stomach like out it would pour?
Shedding tears wailing like a paid mourner
As if you have no stick between your legs?
You grapple the earth like it were life
Wetting it like you’re watering a seed
You’re throwing dirt in the air
Like a vain hex on your past life,
Aren’t you going mad?
Acting like a clown?
Get a grip.
You are not falling.
Why act like the world is ending?
Sip a beer or some gin and wash that madness out
Light a blunt, make it thick, breathe it all in
Find a chick, do it quick, have your fill.
You’re a man and should know better
Not that crap of Jonah, Job or Elijah;
Men own no tears just muscle
Don’t be mad, man
Move on, it’s life.”
This is why I never talk to men when the world sits upon me.