That lad was then feeling like walking on air,
Since, he got the chance to express himself first time for fair;

He said,
We symbolise a batch of lakh fans,
Whose life revolves around sharp blades' might,
Moving forth only doing numerous rational fight;

Our feelings are prisoners of age-old chains,
Crying all alone residing in their mains;
Want to escape chamber calling out their trueship,
Longing for freedom, yet it remains elusive;

Some say only girls can sacrifice,
But our reuniciation is always kept disguise;
Our burdened hearts ache with hidden emotions,
Our cries always silenced by false notions;

boys don't cry.
I am eager to know that, why?
These statements then comes in action,
Our emotions for them seems to be a fiction;

But let me state boys shed tears too,
Their conditions do make them cry,
Their struggles do make them wry.
In this era of modernism,
rate is spurting for women chauvinism,
I know gals want their own rights,
But to do so...
why are they making boys' living extreme tights;


Their hearts, a battleground of hidden wars covered by humane sharks,
Where scars of unspoken battles leave their marks;
Their dreams, caged birds longing to soar,
Trapped within the confines of societal lore;
Their laughter, a flame dimmed by shadow,
Flickering in the darkness, seeking to glow;
Their voices, muted rivers craving release,
Flowing silently, their words seeking peace;


A lad's achievement is ignored as hell,
If gal achieves it, then it becomes enjoyable and well;
I do know girls do need protection,
But boys also claims a bit of affection;


So, I would say in this world,
Boys really need your joyable perk;
Boys extremely wants some attention of their own,
Believe me Their heart is not made of stone;
Try to know conversation between chambers of their heart,
You'll come to acknowledge true struggle and real hurt.

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