The Making Of A Man
L
Laurence Overmire
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The masculine, my lad
Is not the bombast of foolish braggadocio
Nor the flexing of unwarranted muscle
The brutal crush of an innocent
No, the masculine is
The glint of the sword, sheathed yet
Ready to defend
With honor and dignity
Those who would be trespassed
The strength of steel running
Through the marrow of the heart
Capable of great tenderness
The deepest kind of compassion
The life blood that flows from a
Wounded thigh
The wellspring of
All humanity.
Bu şiiri puanla
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