Big Boys Don’t Cry

looking out to sea
You were high above the rest, a legend, the best.
I was just a little boy out in the wild west.
All alone, crying in the desert, a defenceless little one.
You found and picked me up, sheltered me from the sun.
“Big boys don’t cry.” you said. Said I, “I wanna be a big boy.”
“Stick with me,” you said, “And I’ll show you how, okay?”
So you taught me how to find water, how to draw a six-shooter.
And  many other things I never could ‘ave.
You were the master, I was the pupil. I watched in awe,
As you strode through the land laying down the law.
Then came that fateful day – you disappeared. You fell away.
It suddenly became clear that you were never there to stay.
And as the fall-out of your burn-out came plummeting down
I realized you’d never be coming back to town.
You were a dirty double-crosser, a sly-handed player,
A man of many masks, but now they were gone – a bloody traitor.
I sat in my dark corner and tried to get a grip
But sometimes the greatest hits are from those you least expect.
Why did you run? What did I ever do? Why did you leave me
All alone out here in this harsh world? How could that be?
How could you fraternize with the enemy? How could you betray?
A million questions I asked, but I never had an answer to say.

I would many tears shed, but big boys don’t cry.

I guess I’ll just keep going and try not to ask why.
Big boys don’t cry. My heart’s bleeding out.
Big boys don’t cry, even when they’re thrown about.
I burst into tears. Big boys don’t cry, but I did.
I vowed then and there, I would succeed where you failed.
I would prove that big has nothing to do with crying.
And maybe one day you’ll hear of my name as you’re dying.
Remember all the hearts you broke and crushed – the betrayal.
That crying ain’t no weakness – and if that’s what a big boy is, I’d rather fail.
As you lie dying, may you hear of me, that I’m still fighting where you left off.
That I’m not coward, that I’m a warrior, that I cry oft.
Big boys mightn’t cry –
But real men never their tears hide.
Story behind the poem:
Written about some role models of mine who eventually became the very things they use to decry to me. It’s written for those who taught me to fight, but then joined the fight against me. To all those out there, I’m still fighting – the difference is, I’m fighting where you should’ve been.
GZ
photo by http://www.sxc.hu/profile/SSPIVAK
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