His mind was a battlefield,

and his thoughts were a cell.

His anger was his armor,

and his insults were his shell.

They said nobody was perfect,

yet they demanded perfection.

And when he failed to meet the guidelines,

they claimed he was a defection.

He was told real men don't cry,

and denied the right to feel.

They told him get over it,

but they broke his skin before he could heal.

And when he refused to give in,

they called him a freak.

But when he fell into line with the others,

they claimed he was weak.

Yet upon the day when he finally broke,

they all claimed not to know why.

But for the first time forever,

he realized he could finally fly.