I wrote this poem in response to an insulting commentary on men made recently by Fox News pundit Candace Owens.

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I've forgotten how to cry.

I used to shed a lot of tears

through the trials and tribulations

of my younger years. But nowadays,

whenever my heart breaks

from the pain of losing a loved one,

or feel lost, frightened, and alone

with no one or nowhere to turn to,

the tears never come at all.

And I wonder--is this normal?

But I suppose that it's all

for the better. They say that men

aren't supposed to cry. It's seen as

weak, un-masculine, queer.

No woman would ever want

to bear a child from a man with

honest tears streaming down his cheeks

and his heart on his sleeve.

We men, we manly men,

are expected to present a rock-hard

exterior of strength and security

at all times for our women

and children. We are the providers.

The protectors. The lovers. The fighters.

The killers. But if this is what

I was morally intended to be in this life,

then damn your morals to hell.

Yes, I am a man. I'm reminded of that

each time I look down to urinate.

But I am so much more than a man

with testosterone and sperm.

I am so much better than a man.

Or a woman.

I am a human being.

By George Anderson

From: United States