Big Boys Don’t Cry

I’m participating in this poetry workshop, and I wrote this Villanelle poem as an assignment. Do give a read.

Boys, big boys never do cry; 
I learnt to hide the tears as they fell
Over the broken story that is my life.

I was touched, I consented- I try to lie 
that my lowered lashes, puffed up face almost tell. 
Boys, big boys, never do cry.

Questions, doubt, chastise me for having defied 
your laws of society, but those who believe: their eyes do well 
Over the broken story that is my life.

They tell me I should have enjoyed, I should have cried
with ecstasy; when naked, chagrined, dirty was all I felt. 

Boys, big boys, never do cry.

Years have passed, the moon still hears my cries; 
at night, when demons chase my mind and angels’ songs knell 
Over the broken story that is my life.

Sometimes I look up when the sun meets the earth and dies,
I whim about a day free from memories that dwell :

(Boys, big boys, never do cry)
Over the broken story that is my life.