Whitman Imitation of An Urban Mind
Mira… Lo que paso con el mundo
The streets are wastelands -no longer safe- desolate
Look at the sky full of gray nothing, dead from idiotic spews
Look at the children, rasied from ghetto ideals, chasing futile dreams
Look at my mother, saddened by grief and a broken back from carrying
Shards of generations, shattered from hammers of the “just”
Look at my religion, faded and jaded once all the old people die
Look at my neighbors, locked doors and hiding behind blinds
Look at my hands, my heart, my mind, my soul
All cut from trying to pick up jagged pieces of an already destroyed vase
Mis amores, mis flores, te amo con todo mi Corazon
Even flawed and tainted I see the beauty in it all
Every molecule, atom, nucleus combined makes good and evil, together
I give this knowledge to you
Don’t you love how the air heals wounds that seem insurmountable to the eye?
Happiness wouldn’t feel as joyful if pain wasn’t present, wouldn’t it?
Would you take it all, and embrace it?
Note__
I wrote this for my A.P Lit class, I thought it was good enough to share. Take that,
English Teacher, I do more than just sleep in class! heheh.
Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007
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