Of SEALS and Rock-n-Rollers

So moved,
How does it happen?

One telling the story of abuse,
Racism,
The other waxing poetic,
Of life with a story teller’s magic.

Both,
Moving me to tears.

It’s honesty or authenticity,
No, both,
Reaching in with surgical precision
And cutting the emotional scars I’ve carefully engineered.

These guys,
Bringing their pain to the surface,

Raw brilliance,
Their pain, a wisdom massaging a lack of confidence
That oozes from me in tears and sniffles,
Hushed by manliness and thoughts so deeply ingrained.

Yet, they have let go,
Finding freedom in expression forged in understanding their truth,

A truth, mine, the one
I want to understand,
One that has been elusive,
One that resides under layers of doubt and uncertainty.

They bring the waste out
Leaving me wasted in my own rubbish

For it’s their ability to be men
That has me wondering what I’ve always been,
Who I’ve been playing,
Why so many roles of pretending.

It’s as if they found out
Being themselves is greatness, easier

So moved,
A way of living,
Unfettered by the trappings of shoulds,
Untethered to the ropes of limitations.

So moved,
How does it happen?

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