Poetry, Quill

BOY

I wrote this poem when I was 13 and was baffled by the societal norms each one of us has to follow.

Everyone was glad

Jumping with joy, hysterical and mad

When I was in their lap

A little puking baby, a dot on a map

My arrival was grand

My family called in a private band

They organized a party and danced

I was their jewel resting in a comfortable stance

But as I grew up

I had several questions like a curious pup

I was confused by the set rules

Which I had to follow throughout or I would be a fool

When a tear streamed down my cheek

I was termed sensitive and weak

When I wanted a pink toy

I was told to act like a boy

When I wanted to wear a skirt

I got a tight slap and had to wear a pant and shirt

When I announced my hatred for gore and blood

My brothers laughed and told me to act like a stud

When I was playing with girls

I was bullied around and given numerous whirls

I heard my parents cry at night

There sobbing about me being different gave me a fright

I was abused by my classmates,

Hit and scared, their eyes glinted with hate

I was kicked out of school in the month of May

The school was suspicious that I was gay

I had not followed the norms

Set by the society, as strong as a storm

I was an offender

My crime, that I was soft and tender

That I did not show my rage

My strength and muscles in this new age

I did not flaunt my masculinity

Which certified my sexuality?

I did not flirt or date

I did not tease or rape

I did not pass lewd comments

I did not have a man-moment

I have been termed as an outcast and a broken toy

It is so hard being a BOY….

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