A man is believed to be as strong as an oxen,
As mighty as Hercules,
He is believed to have balls to go through shit,
He try hard to stay on our feet no matter what,
For he get judged and perceived weak when he break down,
His pain is alloyed with smiles
His weakness is engulfed with little strength,
Which miraculously pulls him through day and night
He will not let anyone see the burdens he holds inside,
Yet,he is not afraid to shade tears
He is of no greed,
So transparent to his does and doings

"He is the head ",they say,
"How can the head stand still and straight when the neck is weak?," They ask.

I wish to continue writing about a man,
But the reality,keeps on hitting hard,
Rendering me from even typing this poem,