A boy
That is what he feels like
Tears on the verge
He yearns for the sweet cinnamon kisses of his mother
Assuring her “little guy” that the dangers will pass

Be a man
Burly, growling grunts swirl in a vortex around him
Toxic words mutating him
Changing his inner core
Transforming the very fibers of his being

He secretly wishes to break down
Fracture the exterior of the visage placed upon him
Obscured in the veil of society’s expectations
The assume he will be courageous
Allow the situation to dissipate through him
Like sprinting through smoke
Instead he suffocates in the noxious fumes
Asphyxiating him and charring his lungs

Be brave
He needs a hero

Men do not cry
Tears cascade in a waterfall of mortification

Protect everyone
His shadow shakes timidly in the trenches of despair

He hurls the mask off in a paroxysm of fury
Shattering it into a thousand of intricate fragments
In the end evaporating in a cloud of lies

For he is just a mere boy