But I can’t help it. It is my mother’s funeral after all. I close my eyes so he can’t see the tears. I must be a man. I must harden my heart. There must be no more sorrow, so at least when it’s time for that bastard’s funeral I won’t let even one single, accidental tear to roll down my cheek.
Sunday 12 May 2013
No More Sorrow by Nick Trussler
‘Don’t cry! Men don’t cry,’ I receive a slap on the back of my head from my father for this.
But I can’t help it. It is my mother’s funeral after all. I close my eyes so he can’t see the tears. I must be a man. I must harden my heart. There must be no more sorrow, so at least when it’s time for that bastard’s funeral I won’t let even one single, accidental tear to roll down my cheek.
But I can’t help it. It is my mother’s funeral after all. I close my eyes so he can’t see the tears. I must be a man. I must harden my heart. There must be no more sorrow, so at least when it’s time for that bastard’s funeral I won’t let even one single, accidental tear to roll down my cheek.
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