Breeze – Heart of Men [Video]

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I behaved as a child.

But when I became a man, I learned to put away childish things.

To my stepfather, Reginald Harris,

thank you for teaching me how to be a man,

showing me the ropes,

how to roll with the punches when up against the ropes,

keep my chin out, guard down,

be open target for your cheap shots, be heavy bag for all of your bad days.

You see, apparently when life makes a man feel unworthy of the title,

having boxing matches with my innocence

was the quickest way for him to feel like a champion again.

He taught me the Bible with no whisper of Scripture

but made sure to write his word in all the red and bleeding of me.

I remember this one time I was sleeping, dreaming of heaven,

until I was awakened by the wrath of God.

In his right hand, I wept like Jesus.

He replied, “Shut up before I give you something to cry for.”

This is a lesson found in Proverbs.

Thank you for teaching me what a man being slow to anger looks like.

Black eye, bruised face, chipped tooth later,

you let me stay home from school, and you brought me a honey bun.

The lesson, real men can admit when they’re wrong.

I returned to school, face bruised

with the teachers bribing me to bear it all, but I couldn’t.

See, around here, snitches get stitches to their shattered spirits

when people come around asking too many questions.

They would never understand a Black parent’s parable,

that what goes on in this house stays in this house,

that my mother had already started calling me a traitor

because I couldn’t keep my broken face together long enough

before our business started spilling all into the streets.

I was told, “Hold it together,” so I did.

I clamped down into myself like a bear trap.

I held my tongue like a seizure victim.

I smiled and said nothing,

smiled through the pain caused by smiling.

The lesson, real men don’t show weakness.

They hide the pain in their face behind the hurt in their hearts.

See, when you train up a child in your toxic ways,

when they get older,

they will not depart from the hurt and pain you caused.

And I stayed stuck in your ways.

I broke everything, fought everything.

I fight everything in this ring of life with my chin tucked,

my guard up, throwing haymakers at hugs,

swinging on anything getting too close,

just to make up for all the times when I couldn’t fight back.

You see, apparently when a boy is taught how to be a man by a male

that has not actually grown into a fucking man,

the boy becomes an open scar that’ll never heal right.

So thank you, Reggie, for teaching me what never heal right looks like,

for being such a walking hemorrhage that I could look at you

and know where to apply pressure to all this bleeding out was.

See, when I was a child, I spoke as a child.

I behaved as a child.

And when I became a man,

I got tired of my image being made in your reflection.

I opened these fists and finally found love.

In my poems, I learned the power of forgiveness,

and I’ve gained enough to be able to say that I pray one day

you can forgive yourself enough to do the same.

(cheers and applause)