In shadows cast by ancient norms,
Where strength is shown, but hearts are torn.
Men wear masks of stoic pride,
Emotions buried deep inside.

A world that whispers, “Don’t be weak,”
Forbids the tears they long to speak.
Chains of pride, they hold so tight,
In darkness, they must fight their fight.

Beneath the armor, wounds unseen,
A silent cry, a muted scream.
They fight to break the iron mold,
To let their tender hearts unfold.

Toxic whispers fade away,
As men find strength in what they say.
In vulnerability, they rise,
True courage shining in their eyes.