What happened to my boy,
You know the laughing one with the curly
Brown hair, laced with the sun.
Where did, he go, my sweet lad?
What happened to my boy?
You know the one,
Who brought the meds to kids in Cuba,
Crossing the border in spite of the embargo x3,
And 3x landing in a border jail?
The one they chanted “Juanito” in San Juan,
Walking with his Tigger bounce
In the poor alleys of Havana, as he had in Chicago.
Always at home in his skin & the world.
What happened to my boy?
You know the one,
The one with deer eyes,
Listening ears,in school choosing
The front row seat
So he wouldn't miss a word..
The one in Kindergarten who asked the teacher why's,
as in “Why is there only one brown kid in class?”
And the only one who didn't laugh at photos
Of African woman's bare breasted dancing.
“Uniquely kind,” the teacher said. “Brilliant,
Always seeing the real, the truth.”
What happened to my boy?
Who spotted pretension like the smell of rotting corn,
A sense with which you are born,
The old DNA wanting the real the true.
What happened to the lad who wrote President Carter
Admired stories of MLK and wanted to save the world,
In some capacity “The Pope maybe or Cesar Chavez.”
He didn't move away. He's here in his home town,
No longer running jauntily though alleys, no more pausing
To bend & chat with homeless, sneering now.
No longer wary of pretension, silly rules,
No longer fighting for the freedom of himself & others.
What happened to my boy?
Now the unstoppable child stifles his own.
His hair clipped short, the glimmer gone
No sunshine in his eyes.
A zombie stare, a walk with no bounce.
What folks do for love.
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