Poetry: “A man’s job” by Nadia Farag

    Written and Read by Nadia Farag

Read Below———————————————————–

“A man s worth is defined mostly by the income he makes” they said,

Wow, what an empty lie, ask any old man on his death bed!

Too many of them find pride in the colour or shake of their ties,

And women follow, asking first “what kind of car does he drive?”



To me, a true man has another kind of job he owes to life, to his wife,

Richer in nature, he cherishes all women the same way he does to the one that gave him life.

To count and know by heart the number of beauty marks on his woman’s body,

Just by closing his eyes, he could trace the constellation by pure memory.



Then he has another job towards his mountain of a woman,

To protect her and let her express herself: All wild and feminine.

She’s safe in his presence, nothing is off limits: she becomes a mysterious maiden in his arms,

Calm and sure of himself , he watches her bloom and shine like the moon in the sky afar.



The most important job he has is his loyalty, not the kind that explains white lies after stories,

His runs so deep, he would kill for her: after all, she’s all his; his property,

He’s so in this that he grabs his woman’s behind in front of a huge crowd,

Where men look at her and where women give him the eye.



It’s him and her against the whole wide world, its not a front,

He would never dare to bring anyone,  in the middle  of this sacred bond.

His job is to tell her anything and everything: she’s his partner,

Cold warm or hot… no one knows him better.



He loves showing her off to the world dressed up or down: He’s her and she’s him,

He knows her inside out, no woman can come close to her ankle for him to sin.

They searched so long for a love that would break down walls,

Nothing, nothing in this superficial world can ever split them apart.




He would protect his woman’s perception of love by given her the sky on a gold platter,

Doing otherwise would be too cruel of a joke, he knows way better…

He plans on staying there for the rest of his life, embracing her so tight,

He would make it a game to surpass the bullshit fairytales we were all fed at night.



His job comes from watching her get angry like the waves in the ocean,

He smiles and rolls his eyes, hoping the calm will soon take over.

When she turns soft again, he envelops her around his arms at last,

He smiles and tells her that she can be his favourite  pain in the ass…


Thanks for reading Friend


Nadia Farag xxx