I am an angel with
a broken wing.
Wishing to return to the
good times but knows
it's impossible.
An angel who has had her
halo taken from her.
And with that-
her spirit.
God has blessed me with
a gift.
A gift that I am to
never take for granted.
But with all gifts,
there's a proce to pay.
The price paid was
the endless nights
of waking up.
Never again to relax.
Never again able
to go out and have
a good time because
I am the backbone.
The structure.
The mother.
This poem was written from the perspective of Gloria Martinez. A struggling mother in the book, "The Bronx Masquerade".