Since you went home, days turned to weeks
and weeks to months, and I'm still crying, at the sight,
the touch, the smell of things that once were yours,
and feeling lonely, even when surrounded
by those that mean to cheer me up...
I've found that crying gives but scant relief at most,
for pain that overwhelms all senses, like nothing did before.
So, must I heed that stern reminder of my Dad, when he
took me behind the shed, 'Real men don't cry! '?
I'm trying, but to no avail, my angel......
Willem VanVoorthuysen
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/real-men-don-t-cry/
