i been writing

Dulzura de Sangre

Have your cake and eat it too
Until you blue with frosting
Dripping off face and windshield

Tell us how the wind feels like
Broken sky

Unify past present and future
Take a few moments to gather
Yourself and get in proper position

Each confession more
Painful and stressful than
Previous paragraph

Pass through so many clouds
Life was constantly overcast
Storm significant

How small are you next to a stoic century

How times have made man
Which man made time
Enough for you to visit

Invisible yous huddled low
Frantically burning at the end
Of the bench after practicing dribbling

Don’t ever feel mediocre

Look out for rainbow sprinkles
Dancing over your memories

Heard the trees sing all day
With the seasons’ shift in the air

Walked around myself
Because time travel is never easy

Actually I did plenty
Remember every snow shower
And thunder up and down the Lane
Almost a Bronx River
But no Johnny pump could produce
This deluge cutting
Down all the original foliage

Feels like there’s no place to play
Planes streak smoke
Across sharp cielo

If you fly while you stunt
Impossible to lay low

Colors will identify quickly
Better to move like a ghost
Evaporate swiftly

Squirrels forcing you back on point
Harder to remember your path

See young ones forgetting todays lessons
Faster than you could speak

So confused hesitate before they reach
Even to eat next meal

May not be promised
Hungry not too much

Leave some room for knowledge
Courage to share with confident others
Only sense hatred with sisters and brothers

There I am right in the middle
Trying to break up an everlasting fight

I tell them to find your voice
However scared they are
And scream as loud as you can

Learn your words
And just dive into that cold pool

Splish splash
Next cry for air in deep water

In the game movements
Must be precise enough
For you to score safely

Without any verbal crutch
Or emotional hiccups

Internal pursuit of hidden language
Mixed with everyday panic

Making harassment regular
Another competitor
Throwing soul through microphone
To let the world understand his depression

Throwing peanuts
At the sad elephant
Tragic clown

Don’t pass down any of your anguish
Hope next generation
Will never be troubled

I started writing
In front of two way
Truthful peacock mirror

Allowing you to see a future
Couldn’t be any clearer
Except blink

Fast forward
Right here
Tomorrow nearer

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