Like a cycle
The story is never ending
A drunk of a father
A mother consumed by the power of the unknown drugs
And yet there you see on the floor
A baby with no hope from within
As he grows all you see is a house filled with the darkness of no love
Yet the time passes by and in his little eyes
You see the dried tears of love so needed
But never received from those that it was expected
Yet the time passes and the child grows
The parents change and try to mend their ways
But the cycle has begun and it’s too late
That baby that needed love is now grown in his ways
A teen that has seen it all
Found love in the streets from the walls that surround
Surround the barrio where fake love abounds
But to him it’s real
To him it’s what was missing
Yet his parents try to mend their ways
It’s too late
Long have passed those opportunities to show the child love and yet it’s too late
He is a vato from the barrio
The mother cries
The dad is lost
The years have passed and it’s almost done
Walking the streets
The silver pins hit his back
Two on the back and one to the head
There he lays on the concrete jungle
Shot down at a young age
A child who longed for love
Yet never once received what was needed
Yet the cycle continues
Cause as I write this thought
A child lays in his bed
Crying to see the love that he so desperately needs

Copyright © 2015 Nathan Bonilla
Image Credit Here



  1. Harsh reality…


  2. talk about it sis…deep!


  3. Another one of your heartfelt poems <3, such a heart breaking reality.


  4. Very beautifully written. I love it!


  5. The subject should make me sad, which it does. But somehow, the words, so beautifully put together, radiate a beauty. A comfort zone. Perhaps there is still hope. Perhaps we can save this new born child.


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