Big Boys Do Cry
By Dan Yates, Army
Writing Type: Array
-Blue Springs, MO
The sky is dark and cloudy, transforming into gray;
it has been too long since we've had a rainy day.
I sit beside the window, stare out into the street,
feeling like I'm half a man whose life is incomplete.
Then I see a raindrop, a second and a third;
I make my way to the door without a single word.
Down the street I go; inside I feel relief,
knowing I can go outside, not disguise my grief.
Weeks have come and gone since my true love said good-bye;
I miss the gentleness of her touch, the twinkle in her eye.
Every time I think of her, tears run down my face,
but outside in the rain, its drops will smear their trace.
Years ago I heard it said that big boys just don't cry;
to this day I regret I never questioned why.
This pain that overwhelms me consumes my broken heart;
the heart that she once filled has been blown apart.
A car drives by, honks its horn, a friendly wave is given,
as if to say, "It's good to see you back among the living."
I wave back, fake a smile, I feel so all alone
as I walk on in the rain, my personal cry zone.
I walk without a purpose; it must have been an hour
when I realize where I'm at, by the cross adorned with flowers.
I lift my tear-stained face, allow my eyes to roam
across the skid-marked street where my soul mate did go home.
I stand and gaze from curb to curb, grateful for the rain
and the mask it provides to hide my heartfelt pain.
My thoughts turn toward the heavens; again I question, "Why?"
Someone somewhere long ago said, "Big boys just don't cry."
I turn around, head for home, each day is now a chore,
knowing she won't be there to meet me at the door.
As I walk I'm grateful for the periodic rain
that washes tears from my cheek that I cannot contain.
I think about that statement, burned deep within my mind.
Was it said just for me or apply to all mankind?
I turn the knob, step inside, decide that it's a lie