Locked In Stereotypes

Women aren't the only people to feel the brunt of society's expectations of appearance, behaviour and life choices. A glimpse into the dungeons of men.

They told me that boys don't cry,
That we were to be strong.
I am to succeed at all that I try,
Because there is nothing I can do wrong.
"Men don't cry over heartbreaks."
"A true man never quits."
I am a prisoner, for God's sakes!
We all are, trapped by fools and gits.
Caring is a woman's design, they stress,
And they urge me to trample on.
Apologies are a sign of weakness,
So I just swallow until it is gone.
She called me a monster, a misogynist,
But she didn't know something well.
Not all of us believe it in the slightest-
Among us, chivalry and decency dwell.
But a man must always win, they said,
And some think it means women lose.
Secretly, the truth still rings in my head-
Success is seen the way you choose.
I let her paint me as a villain,
Kept quiet and walked away from the fight.
I took the mockery, the aching pain-
Atleast she could lament her plight.
Trapped in tightening cords, a puppet of the society,
I wish her the best, pray for her freedom.
Her success could be a start of what might be
The sword to set me free from this biased humdrum.
Here I am yet, hiding my thoughts and emotions,
Turning slowly into a statue, a machine,
Being told what to feel, following the motions,
Knowing that there are many kinds of mean.
Perhaps one day, I can break the dams I built,
To be who I was born, be free and still somehow belong.
One day, when I am not buried in resentment and guilt,
And my heart thrums to the beat of an unsung song.