It Is Simple

when you draw a man
on your paper
do not complicate him
let him have hands
a head
a belly
let him have two legs
and two feet

do not try giving him
fingers and toes
and start tracing
the lines of his
palms
and pores of his skin
his hair
and eyebrows and
eyelids

he would not like it
the particulars
are his alone
his secrets
his struggles to define himself
apart from the rest

in doing so
you let him be
a man to complete himself
self-made
with pride to provide the missing parts
his past buried
in his muscles
his hopes intricately woven
in his nerves

it simple enough
let him have too his solitude
a secret cabinet
for his bullets and pistol
and rage

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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