Boys will tell you what you want to believe
Men will tell you what you need to hear
Boys say, ‘There’s always tomorrow’
Men say, ‘If it’s yours then battle! and earn it’
Boys do harm; they lie, reason, and morph to suit
Boys think love is a game, a battle of wits
Men love a woman the way they want to be loved; men listen
Men correct themselves because they *believe* in striving for something special
Boys will allow themselves to place another on a pedestal
Men will allow a woman to feel mentally comfortable, secure, and respected
A boy's love is a straight line; a standard sketch with a pencil, maybe a few colors, erasable
A man's love is an orbiting sphere; a cosmic sea of painted images in oil crayon for effect, depth - an endless Sistine escape
Boys like to brag and make as much noise out of any hole in their body as possible
Men can wear a wicked tongue and sword - but possess a rightful demeanor, a sense of self - an unspoken sense of evident truths reinforced, entrenched within
Boys prowl for a conflict only as Poe would describe, as a raven would sharpen it's beak on the body
empty minds with searing blood red eyes
and often vodka breath
Men see the fears of the future, dictating reality rather than manipulating cruelly for gain
Should man and woman be so lucky to embark upon one another, let them flourish in their strength of character