Who Wants Me

Trying to get in the game my whole life. Don't know what team I'm on. Which one wants me? Who will accept me? Been going to the field for 52 years and still trying to get picked. Maybe this year the Boriquas will do it or maybe the Jews? I keep sitting here waiting, wondering. So much easier back in the day, I was the white boy, living in the hood accepted by the Brothers, I wasn't Black for a fact. To them I was part of the fabric and I could run with that. Move out, new hood blended in by skin but not in my head. The Jew left behind when they all left. Got stuck when Cancer blocked us. The Puerto Rican who couldn't speak the lingo but loved the culture. The Jew Mom who didn't see race, thank you for that. But did that keep us behind? Almost got out but death dealt my hand. Kept me where I belonged and made me who I am, a man who loves all but silently alone on an island searching for identity. Yo! You Italian? Are you Greek? Nope I'm a Jew Rican from The Bronx! You Black? You Latino? You a Jew? The Klan hates you once they will hate me twice! Dancing to Salsa , grooving to R and B. Know more about Hip Hop than you can imagine! Had a Bar Mitzvah at 13, cheated but made one side of the family happy! Keeping the Rican in me alive. Respect to Pop! Smoked blunts on the block with a 40 of Old Gold in my hand. Partied in the heights, Harlem, Alphabet City, Upper Eastside, keep blending. Still sitting on the bench, almost all the spots picked. Come on! Let me play! Move south, new teams. Oh crap! Don't let them know! No worries, they are all confused. He could be one of us, or could he be one of them? Will I get picked? Found a new crew, looks like my boys from the hood. They don't care down here either. They got my back. Got up from the bench, don't want to play no more. I found a team that wants me. They have been there the whole time and I picked. I'm a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Cool with that, don't need a side to choose, I'll be on them all. Either way I win! Shalom Mi Gente!