boy.
just boy.
laughing for nothing.
running.
dust on his feet, not worries.
then
life said:
“you. stand up.”
not tomorrow.
not later.
now.
his name changed.
people stopped saying “son”
started saying
“be a man.”
just like that.
no training.
no warning.
his toys?
gone.
his hands?
now carrying things
too heavy
for his age
for his heart
for his small small chest.
he didn’t understand everything
but he understood this:
no one else will do it.
so he did.
he learned fast fast
how to hide pain
how to swallow tears
how to answer problems
like an adult.
even when inside
he was still asking
child questions.
play? later.
rest? later.
himself? later.
everything, later.
but later never really came.
so now,
he walks like a man
talks like a man
decides like a man
but sometimes
when it is quiet quiet
very quiet
a small voice inside him says:
“can I be a boy again…
even for small time?”
no answer.
only silence.
And the strange thing is
he never agreed to this life.
He just
did not refuse.
