Our favourite pastime: Man bashing…

I am not a man. So I cannot tell a man how to be a man. There seem to be a lot of experts out here though. The ones that are twats, take your bashing. You suck. But as for the others, this is what I think, if you are really trying but you are still getting a raw deal.

A Real Man…


Cares for his children,

Fucks no other woman

But his woman

Is made of money…

Well, if he wants to make honey…


And they run amok in society,

Chased by their humanity,

Shamed into compliance,

“Trapped” in an alliance,

With God and country,

Woman and money.

The poor man doesn’t see his own self,

With all the images, mirrors, flashing lights,

Premises, promises and rights.


Everyone tells him who he must be.

It is clearly outlined who he must want to be,

What to smoke, who to poke.

Stand still honey.

You are the butt of this joke.


Meaningless words floating everywhere,

Meaningful gestures waning into neither here nor there: Netherwhere.


Stop telling him who to be.

Because he

Will be who he will be.

Just as you must be,

And see in yourself what needs be.

You decide your destiny,

Based on what you want to be,

Rather than what others will see.

Although… if all an exemplar would do, is be

That is all a man would need to see.

A real man is just that.

A man.

Let him be.


Louella Mahabir

3rd. Aug, 2014




~ by louella001 on August 4, 2014.

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