Month: December 2014

I often start a poem with a leading question, a what is question, and it often ends with a simple straight conclusion, and a conclusion which is biased towards my opinions.

Unfortunately the answer this time is an answer which affects millions,

In different ways, and means something different to each person

And sometimes maturity is a thing which hurts them

It is a thing which hurts men, and women, young or old

It hurts them so much when they are told,

You are immature,

You need to be a man about this

Grow some balls

Be more mature

Those words sting more than razor across your stubble when you get cut

Or the wax strips up and down your legs, “fuck”

You bite into your lip and it bleeds a little on the inside

Or when the teacher comes up to you as you are mucking about in the…