A weeping voice trembling through words,
A symphony we can only sing, alone with the birds,
Tongue tied with terror, triumph a lifetime away,
A mask to be worn for the day,
A shield protecting our organs from the bitter chill
An icicle slicing through skin is the worst thing to feel
Frozen tears, burning cheeks
Icicles forming, there for weeks
Not melting as we are made tough
As men we will remain rugged and rough
Oh what a life
A stone cold persona to represent our strife
Walking barefoot through the grass with thorns in our feet
Although in pain, we shall never speak
Stay silent and strong
To this group we must belong
Let the pain resonate within our veins
As men we will remain the same
We must never tell all
As vulnerability will make us fall
The sun will shine but we shall not melt
For our armour is our safety belt
Poetry In Motion 