There are glaring misconceptions,
The folly of blatant mental posturing,
Delusional justifications trying to define a man.
They are misguided, shortsighted,
Easily manipulated, injected,
The vinegar of male inoculation.
These vocal dystopian needlers,
Miserable knife wielding neuters,
Harpies ingesting the food of manhood.
Some would saddle the horse, ride him,
Use the crop until his strength stumbles,
But, no man is anyone’s beast of burden.
Some may think this folly of conjecture,
But, it bears the soul of Occam,
Simply put, we are what we are.
Acceptance is a harsh reality, truth,
The granite laid by life’s history,
It is the blame game between sexes.
Wasted posturing, justifying microniches,
The piddling prattling of want-a-be’s,
Never reaching the stature of a man.
Even a male praying mantis, comfortable,
Feeling safe in his exoskeleton,
Until an unsatisfied female mantis devours him.