Woke Man
These nights, a particular kind of Woke Man is the Wolf in my Riding Hood nightmares.
This Woke Man sure is sympathetic to my cause.
This Woke Man spouts feminism out of his ass.
And will fight my social media battles for me
Like a modern day medieval knight.
This Woke man could be anyone, anywhere.
He could be sitting opposite me at this very cafe
Or my right swiped Romeo at the movies
Or the friendly professional so good at his work
Or the fellow open micer with the mad talent.
These days, a particular kind of Woke Man shuts down my Solar Plexus.
I can't get to my power
And it might be my fault
(What's another in a list so long, amirite ladies)
But tell me who you can trust now.
I look at men I've seen all my life
-these men-my men-so strong-so kind-
I cannot bear to speak my full truth.
I read of all the silk-tongued monsters
-which men-whose men-so many-I-find-
Of Woke Men, once trusted thrice loved.
And lest I be too overwhelmed, swept away
(Hormones Hormones Hormones, amirite ladies)
I sweep away words I dare not say.
These times, a particular kind of Woke Man troubles me too.
And I hope He isn't the one drop that turns the ocean red.
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