my actual language was born from the arcaicos and all that came after them  
but they were the first in my island
my beautiful Puerto Rico

spanish isnt my actual language
spanish is the aftermath of all the killing and conquering

my accent wasnt born it was made
it was made by the death of my ancestors, their cry for freedom, their cry for war
my accent is all the blood, sweat and tears from them

Flowers surround his tombstone
His epitaph is short
It reads Rest In Peace
Rest In Peace to whom?

Sniffles are heard throughout the eulogy
Dressed in all black to mourn the loss of him
Fake tears coming from all.

He was killed
Killed from the demons inside his head
He was driven to the point of insanity
Lived for 16 years, yet he felt dead his whole life.

A brother, son, and friend.
Lies.
They’re all lies.
He didn’t have anyone, nor did anyone have him.

Mistreated, Beaten, and Abused
That’s who he was.
No one knew a single thing about him.
Thrown out, never loved.

A suicide.

The world was against him
He was forgotten by everyone.
Forgotten when alive, but remembered when dead.

Rest In Peace

She was as soft as a feather
Falling from above
The heavens she left
To me she came