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May 2012
“I had to make something of myself”
He had tattoos and a shaved head
His past was more than a memory
It was a life that that almost left him for dead
As I let him stick the needle in
I felt no pain while I measured his pride
My indifference was for a moment forgotten
As I considered his leap across the great divide

“Pull yourself up by your bootstraps”
Mere words spoken easily on a sunny day
Should a man define himself by his possessions
Or the distance traveled to find his way?
The gates of hell were made known to me
As the pardoned ghetto rat walked my way
In his calm moment he spoke as if he had seen God
And reminded of the blessings we throw away

“Honor your mother and your father”
His child wanted to climb only one family tree
He carried the mark of brown and white
And wondered which one he should be
But there is no choice to make
It is the life of a half-breed
And the gangster nurse knew
The pain his choices would breed

“Oh so now you’re too good for us”
His future was as uncertain as his past
But in the wisdom of the violence he had vanquished
He knew it was time to stop the legacy at last
The man with the face of America’s fear
Said goodbye to the people who had his back
In his hands were the eyes looking for a father
And in his words was the courage that I lack
Mark Lecuona
Written by
Mark Lecuona
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