My Sentient Life
I was her father.
She said I was her automaton, so I cried.
“Be strong for us” they told me,
so I cried alone.
She said I was a sensitive man,
an oxymoron to her mind,
so I smiled and nodded to her husband.
I over E, that’s me, they say it’s the best way.
Be sensitive but calm, brave but tender,
Love and be kind, but take no shit.
See, feel, hear it all,
Mindfulness is marvelous.
Be everything to everyone.
No wonder I’m confused.
Look both ways and be the ball, feel the wind,
smell the roses, touch her heart.
Mind the gaps and protect from harm.
Kill only when necessary.
Our Literary Journey 
Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes…. And not just the male parent, either.
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Thank you.
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I really like this, Bill. No wonder we’re confused indeed. 🙂
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Thanks for for the comment. Glad you liked it.
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That is beautifully written, Bill.
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Thanks, Sue.
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You’re very welcome 😊
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Dear Bill,
Quite the dilemma for a sensitive man. I felt the struggle inside him. I think it’s harder than ever for the male of the species. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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I have read some about stoics. I am not one. 🙂
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