4 Tales of Men

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I don't even know how to start this one off,
But then again most men don't
Let's not pretend most men won't
Begin to admit they are struggling
That's why most men feel alone
In secret fighting what they struggle with

Battle it on their own, in private
Not heard songs singing about I'm hurt
What's on my sleeve, like a pirate
Put heart on hooks, whether they like it
I know they say scars have to heal
But sometimes they try to conceal
Thinking that they're keeping it hard, real
Not realising that it's hard to reveal

Feelings unveiled, use swords and shields
That's why he's got his guard up
In any field, the way he deals
Just has to harden up
But let me stop all the talking, and give you the hard facts
Stories of shoes I didn't walk in, still giving you hard facts
You feel like you need to call in, life's giving you hard facts

Remember 73% of suicides are male

Bledren, imagine year 7, you don't really have a care in the world
Apart from your only care in the world
Is getting a hospital care from the world's
Best doctors, still nothing fair in the world
Because his own mum's heart stops pumping
But he don't know
In a few moments on the phone
News will be known
And truth say a fit will be thrown
He's far from home
Residential trip, and he can't go
And be consoled
His life giver's life's absolved
Now, imagine what that does to the grieving process
Probably a lot of thoughts, me and you, part process
However, when the time kinda began to progress
He was back, played football, seemed like enough progress
But it wouldn't take a pro's-guess to assume that really bros stressed
Doesn't know life, but now he knows death

He was crying out for help, he didn't make a sound
He was just lying in bed, waiting to be found
On paper, he had bare support from all around
all the brothers and dad grieving too, a big mound

And yeah that has an effect
And us knowing the full extent
Is probably ineffective,
but in effect his mum's death did
What you'd expect,
Can try and forget
But bro was hurt, bro was lost, bro was anxious
Of course he turned past his loss, had no damn trust
Confidence learnt, grievance cost, had no answers
Turned reserve, not a toss, frail in anguish

So now you know the meaning of grieving
Your mental state, leaving of reasoning
But it took four years, speaking of healing
So play his movie, leaving it unreeling,
Yeah, leave it unreeling, man

But that's just act one, now on to act two
Cause this case is more than a few
How he the most assured of the group
But feeling the most insecure in the crew
Topless pictures and topless nights
Stops less in the gym, spotless grind
Eats more chicken and eats more rice
People can see he be more, right
And I don't diss the gym, or the hustle, or the journey
It's an escape or discipline to wake up early
Looking and feeling chiselled, always a plus, thirdly
All of these could have been reasons, but none concerned me
To tell the truth, I never knew, till he told me
I thought it was him, like, look at bold me
Needed to be looked at, what you don't see
Wasn't trying to tell us he's worthy, just himself

Was deep in insecurity,
couldn't see, no maturity
Yeah, that was him, but more it's me
It was like, he's so sure, it seems
confidence but lacks, purity
That's a façade importantly
He didn't tell of course he'd been through hell, torturously
Adolescent nearing body dysmorphia,
Yeah, I said it, but even so, I got more for ya,
Because he only said it, intoxicated
Masculinity shows you how toxic it made it

Not trying to say keep it moving, but let's keep it moving
His feelings, not in tune with, not attuned with
Because boy three had good things, but wasn't a good thing
Thought depression was caused by something, must be nothing
Didn't admit to us, not even to himself
Feelings he tried to push away, put on a shelf
He had a parasite in his mental health
He thought no reason to complain, so kept it stealth

Parents were loving, but he thought they'd never understand
Where he was coming from, they just giving the upper hand
Grades were one thing, couldn't separate one from the other and
Mentally blocking pressure with depression brother hand
Me the front, the super ego, the boss, you let everyone see
Being blunt, past your own ego, manipulator that you be
We then hunt for what is real, low emotions that you keep discreet
See, don't stunt, you must reveal cloaked feelings and then you'll find your feet
Developed a misogyny in his masculinity and so, didn't speak
Embellished a philosophy, feelings that grew him, seen and so spinned as weak

Unload the junk when he is drunk, chat shit, smells skunk,
See through the funk, unpack the trunk, his mental gunk
Satan he bunks with, acts a hunk, but feels a punk
Drown out the noise, his head he dunks

Wasn't even gonna do the fourth verse, cause who does three plus verses
It's too live, too real, scared I'd make it worse
If I don't speak out though, this would be worthless
Smiley and kind, but he's the one who's hurt
Somehow to him, cutting makes it hurt less
Was always asking people how they were, when returned
Didn't say, in his head, we're stress-es
But bro was in a different world, in love with a different girl
Issues that are different still, whether I knew indifferent still
Isolated, battling
He had problems with no answer
Now battling demons in his head
Counting down days till he's dead
This story I never got told
Just picked it up from clues I solved
Need to intervene it unfolds
Could've ended him in the cold

And I know there's other men, friends, going through this
Who will never ever let people know what the truth is
Is it because the masculine culture is too ruthless
Or I don't know, are they clueless

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