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"SOME FOOLS HAVE ALL THE LUCK"



a year ago, I met a lost but 
willing to live adolescent. 
problems in school, problems 
with siblings, problems with 
her mother and a never-ending 
self-analysis through the day to day 
verbal and physical 
abuse at the mouth and hands 
of her children’s father. the 
opportunities to end it all 
have been passed up like 
yesterday’s whores. I’ve 
talked with her, reasoned 
with her, given her every bit 
of comparison and analogy to 
convince her that she must 
end this destructive life-
style or she will be killed. 
a pattern to excuse it, her 
choice to live inside her 
perverted view of love has 
continued to take a toll on 
her self-worth and physical 
shape. I remember a time and 
more times after that where I 
was accused of such things 
and the pigs were called. 
into jail I went and it’s 
gotten crazier ever since. 
I’ve come to love this girl 
as if she was my own, telling 
her I’d go nowhere even if 
her mother and I stopped what 
we’ve been fighting over for 
a year. however unlikely 
keeping me around will be, 
the offer has been planted. 

the other night her mother 
and I went back to her house 
and saw two out of shape 
fingers, a black eye, hair 
out of place, broken 
furniture, make-up urinated 
on and a wound dripping with 
blood. she had gotten her 
reality of love once again. 
it was her chance to end it 
all. “when the police come 
are you going to talk to 
them?” I asked. “no,” she 
said. her mother and I tried 
to convince her of the 
opportunity but it proved 
worthless. I walked 
downstairs, ready to go. what 
point was there? she’d stay 
and set herself up to do it 
all over again and again. I 
think back to my days, the 
days of accusation without 
proof only to end up doing 
time. now at 33, I sit 
separated from my children 
while my ex-whores laugh. 
there her boy sits free, 
laughing while she hates 
herself. this is the America 
we live in. America, land of 
the free but I have to 
question the home of the 
brave.


By: Chicano Eddie
09212017
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