I was born in an age of women empowerment and snapchat,
Brought up with parents battling to maintain a societal status.
Daily burried in their hustle and chatting the evenings away,
I was the son of our maid, and she was no mom to me,
My mom was too busy on weekdays and stayed in the salon on weekends,
she shrugged me off with little coins for sweets and candy,
Thought they would substitute the sweetness I yearned from her,
And our maid, Mary Anne found some sweet things to do to me.
She washed me everyday,
And she had pleasure in gropes more than wash,
She let me watch as she shaved her nethers,
She would sometimes play with and laugh at mine,
Yet she called me handsome even when I did not know emotion,
My complaints to mum were futile false reports,
Flagged off as a reject to the caring care Mary freely gave.
As I grew, so did my fear for care,
Because the supposed affection I got freely was bad intended,
My life was dotted with doubts,
Blurred lines between warm hugs and a pedophile's pounce,
And a lonely teenagehood molded by parent wrangles was no solace.
My first girlfriend - an Angel sent from high above,
A genuine smile and a gentle touch,
She earned my trust and in her I kept my secrets,
My childhood molests and helpless moments,
All of them, none to hide,
I thought her mouth would remain shut,
Yet she gloated with my dirtiest linen in the sun,
Betrayal was a virtue, at least to those around me,
I happened to be the constant target of wrong decisions,
And everyone ignored my pleas.
My male gender was a label of strength,
That I needed no protection, yet I had to give the same,
Now I live - a broken grown man in a chaos of society,
Healing wounds and drying scars in the confines of my small heart,
And still, voices rant about women empowerment,
But ignore the feeble embarased voices of our future fathers.
No one heard me, and no one will hear them.
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