Francisco
An opened heart, a loyal soul, a keeper of what must not be known.
A piece of his heart is planted for everyone where love had time to grow.
Lover of the silence when he is to himself,
The volumes spoken when with each word emotions are shown,
The knowledge which is sought to feed the brain itself.
Who feels the pressure of society with every step he takes,
The splinters in his chest from recent heartbreak,
Like his world keeps on spinning as he writes thoughts down.
Who fears he must, in society’s eyes, be second rate,
The movements of lips with malicious intent carrying no sound,
The concept of religion for he thinks that’s the world’s end.
Who would like to see how human life began,
His books on their tables with the words speaking his own truth,
Peace to reach from the deepest abyss to the point of every mountain.
Resident of his take it day by day, love every moment, leased youth.
Delacruz-Hernandez