As a man
I thought it was my job to kiss
a woman's lips
Now I kiss my baby's feet.
As a man
I thought it was my job to chop
the wood.
Now my arms cradle groceries.
As a man
I thought it was my job
to drink and laugh roughly
Now I run my finger down her cheek.
What am I?
Am I less of a man
now that these hands hold tenderness?
It is a greater form of strength.
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To My Grandmother
When lonely days surround like a crew,
Your tired mind's upset and bruised,
Let go of sadness. Why remember
As a man
I thought it was my job to kiss
a woman's lips
Now I kiss my baby's feet.
As a man
I thought it was my job to chop
the
Tenderness
The tenderness of your sweet kiss
The tenderness of your touch
The tenderness of your warm embrace
Makes my heart
by Divine
At A Tender Age
At the tender age of six
he felt more pain than anyone
could ever imagine from the hands
of his angry mother.
At
My Favorite Place
There is a place
that I like to be
it's warm and safe
and special to me.
I'd never share
my special place
to
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Poetry: Tenderness
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