The Man Who Had Forgotten How To Cry...

i do not weep
i must be weird
for i do not know
how to cry

when my loved ones
died
i buried them &
some have to cry
for me
to satisfy
our tradition

people who notice this
talk
and they talk behind
my back

i pinch my cheek
and hurt my eyes
there are no more tears
the mirror
speaks

i must be that boy
who had forgotten how to cry

i could be that man
who can never cry

for what use is crying?
will it save papa from
dying?
will it heal a
bleeding heart?

will it change my
predicament?
will it make flowers
grow?
will it turn these stones
into bread?
will it save me from
falling?

will it pacify a storm
will it still the
whirlpools of my
mind?

i have no one to cry for
i am not that selfish to cry for my own self
i am not a masochist
i have no pity for my own misfortune
i do not blame myself for all my failures

i don't have a place to let my tears fall
there is simply no time for it
anymore....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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