Man enough

Man enough

There was a man

dancing on stage

in his pink Tutu

with the spotlight

on him.

He turned and shouted

since I was up in the


he singled me out

because I was the only

one there.

now, someone turned

the spotlight on me

illuminating the darkness

I was sitting within.

‘are you man enough

to wear a



I had to think

a few seconds

on his one.


I answered loudly with the echo reverberating bouncing off all the walls:



I guess that answer was good enough

for him, as he began dancing again

and ended it with a spectacular curtsy.

but, I


why I was

there at all.

was I getting cultured?

was this at all art?

how I wondered long.

was I getting

real man lessons

or simply

on the verge of

losing the last

shred of masculinity

I had left?

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