They dig deeper into my being
Like they probe deserts for oil
In search of my manhood reservoirs
They make surveys inside my mind
Reading me hard under their scanner eyes
I am a man
The word sounds like a disease now
Too much of me is revealed
Too little left to fathom or contemplate upon
I am a man
Almost like a shadow
Ripped off its soul
There are only symptoms left now
Severely acute terrible symptoms
A rough face with no beard
A tight chest with no hair
A bunch of taut muscles
And to top it all
Severely underconfident complexed penis
I am a man
Delusional
Drunk
With ostentatious might of the youth
I am intelligent enough to be stupid
And stupid enough to be foolish
To be a man is so frightening
I escape
To be a soldier, a saint
Or the God
(being an angel is too harsh on a man)
On the shores of gentle womanhood
I keep wondering
What makes me man for myself?
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