Haiti Frank Polanco 125, or 125,000
It had to be you.
Why should I think
about you? It hurts,
I don’t know why?
I feel you, I try
to create your image
in my mind, but I only
see dark circles
shimmering on the lonely
souls of the streets
full of time, clicking
away our memories like black
birds flying above silvery
waters that flow into
tunnels of light.
I see 125, or 125,000
events turning around in
my life. Which one will
eventually turn against me?
I need to get across the
flowing waters of destiny.
I hear echoes of shadows
emerging from the distant
past of the city.
“Walk son, it’s the only
way”. “The only way”.
Walking, thinking, traveling,
across tunnels of sand and
water, looking, searching,
trying to find what’s left
of you, broken bottles
shattered all over blind
dark streets full of anguish
and innocence. Fly and turn above
the skies, black birds of sorrow,
thieves of life. I see you came
and go, flying above my innocent
soul, so full of you.
I see 125, or 125,000
events turning around
in my life. Which one will
eventually turn against me?
They turn and turn
life as it comes and goes.
My thoughts and feelings
vanish like water under the
flaming fire of the soul.
They lead the way to the
unknown, to realize that
of all the people in the
world it had to be you,
a thief, the guide; like
a thief in the night to
enlighten your days of
pain and sorrow, with
joy and happiness.
He leads the way to the
shop of life. I pay
twenty-five dollars for
the same tire that has
turned many times in my
life, creating thoughts,
memories, and illusions
about life and it’s
greatness.
It had to be you.
Prof. Frank Polanco
