08/10/2026
Behind the nod, behind the joke,
Behind the quiet, heavy smoke,
Behind the mate who’s "doing fine,"
Who’s good at toeing down the line.
You hold it in, you build the wall,
Convinced that men aren't meant to fall.
You carry weight you shouldn't hold,
In fear of looking less than bold.
They taught us young that strength is quiet,
To hide the storm, suppress the riot,
To swallow tear and stifle sound,
And keep our feet on solid ground.
But weight gets heavy when it’s kept,
For every tear that isn't wept.
And standing tall behind a mask
Is far too cruel a lifelong task.
It doesn't make you any less,
To say your mind is in a mess.
It doesn't break your manhood down
To let the silent burden drown.
You don't need speeches polished fine,
Or words that fit inside a line.
Just half a sentence, crude and small:
"I'm struggling, mate, and that is all."
The hardest door to walk right through
Is one where people listen to you.
So pull a chair up, pour a brew,
And leave the mask behind with you.
It’s not a weakness, not a shame,
To speak the things you cannot name.
You’re not alone, you’re not a ghost—
The loudest noise is speaking most.
Andys Man Club Ashton-under-Lyne
Andys Man Club Denton
Andys man club Stalybridge
