As a giant,
I have stepped
Over oceans, across where
Women’s tears, were spilled by my presence.
I have a presence
Too sinister, to recognize kindness,
Either upon myself
Or from others.
I have stepped, as I said
Over oceans,
Made of women’s tears.
I am a man, who has not seen gentleness,
Just a giant, who only knows strength
For himself.
Why would gentleness want this
When a giant cannot be gentle
As a giant?
Love is for me,
When I am no giant,
When I can be gentle, before beauty.
No flower to crush,
No tears to step through
Like any puddle.
I pick up a stone,
And attempt to squeeze its contents
And no tears come out,
Because I cannot crush my own heart.
Poem #2 from Project – “Beauty Reflects…” – Romantic Poetry – 2/28/2020
