His pointed words drove deep arrows
Into my already wounded soul.
He said how will these boys be men
When they’re all raised by women?
Not once did he put down a woman,
His poem directed at absent men
And the boys he witnessed abandoned.
But I’m a woman raising boys to men
And I bled as each line pierced my heart.
Do I just go out and pick up a man
Like buying groceries or picking up dry cleaning?
Add one more thing on my list of to-dos.
Do I just cry and let guilt consume?
If my boys are going to be raised by this woman,
They might know how to stick to it.
They will learn how to clean toilets,
How to cook and bake and for God’s sake,
Clean up after yourself.
You will learn how to love unconditionally,
What family really means,
How to fight when necessary,
How to get what you want
Without giving up who you are,
How to forgive, overflow with grace,
How to be happy,
How to give up being right.
You will know you are worth loving
No matter what.
There’s no measuring up.
No hairstyle that matters
Or clothing or material thing that can change you,
You are perfectly flawed.
I love you and there’s nothing
You can do about it.