Poem: Sons

Born to become men,
they harrow their fathers
for years until they learn to stay their fists
and bridle their cunning.
Some never do,
but the ones who do,
learn when given light lashes,
quickly when they deserve it.

Born of women,
they harrow their mothers
for years until they learn to give.
Some never do,
but the ones who do,
learn best by being given to,
when they least deserve it.