by Eileen Hagermeister for her son-in-law, Brett
It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief
Since men "don't cry" and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief
It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test
And field the calls and visitors
To let her get some rest
They always ask if she's all right
And what she's going through
They seldom take his hand and ask
"My friend, but how are you?"
He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break
He comforts her and dries her tears
But "stays strong for her sake"
It must be very difficult
To face each day anew
And try to be so very strong
He lost his baby, too
by Ken Falk
I heard quite often "men don't cry"
though no one ever told me why.
So when I fell and skinned a knee,
no one came by to comfort me.
And when some bully-boy at school
would pull a prank so mean and cruel,
I'd quickly learn to turn and quip,
"It doesn't hurt", and bite my lip.
So as I grew to reasoned years,
I learned to stifle any tears.
Though "Be a big boy" it began,
quite soon I learned to "Be a man".
And I could play that stoic role
while storm and tempest wracked my soul.
No pain or setback, could there be
could wrest one single tear from me.
Then one long night, I stood nearby
and helplessly watched my son die.
And quickly found, to my surprise,
that all that tearless talk was lies.
And I still cry, and have no shame.
I cannot play that "big boy" game.
And openly, without remorse,
I let my sorrow take its course.
So those of you who can't abide
a man you've seen, who's often cried,
reach out to him with all your heart
as one whose life's been torn apart.
For men DO cry when they can see
their loss of immortality.
And tears will come in endless streams
when mindless fate destroys their dreams.
