POEM: THEY CALLED HIM PUPPET

Brought to this country
His parents had dreams
dreams of a future all together
Mi hijo a llegado said the father
From the motherland he traveled
Through the desert he struggled
The miles traveled would soon disappear
For the joy of his father would appear
He is here the joy resounded in the small home
Our family is now one
He had come from far and journeyed so long
But today marked a time of great joy

The time passes and it is short lived
Mixed with the vatos from the barrio
Today would mark a change in paths

No longer mi hijo he would be
The shock of a culture had taken presence
The silence he felt because of the language
A cornered boy he had become
But with these vatos he would soon become
Otro cholo del barrio
Puppet was his name
He had become a puppet yes indeed
To a barrio who forgave no deed
Puppet was his name
Cholo del barrio
No longer my son from home

But on one gloomy night
On the corner he turned
Steps from his home
His fate would soon be known
With shots from a gun
Puppet laid dead
Dreams of a new life cut short by the gun
Today was the day
puppet would no longer be known

The screams of a mother
The tears of a father
His name was puppet
To a street cruel and mean
But to them he was a son
Un hijo
Un hermano
Taken away too soon

Copyright (c) Juan N. Bonilla 2015 All Rights Reserved
Image Credit: (HERE)

Tags: blogging, cholo, death, gangster, poem, poems, poetry, vato