Poetry by residentsof the Cyndi Taylor KrierJuvenile Correctional Treatment Centerin San Antonio, Texas

Push and Pull

Push and Pull

“Their souls begin to lock like push and pull.” BryanS.

Poetry by residents of the Cyndi Taylor Krier Juvenile Correctional Treatment Center

in San Antonioin partnership with Gemini Ink,

readers and writers today and tomorrow©2009 Gemini Ink

Writer-in-Residence Gregg Barrios

Layout, Design & Editing Angelia Potter and Daniel Torres, Gemini Ink interns

Anisa Onofre, Director, Writers in Communities

Special Thanks toFadela Castro, Photographer

Jessica Maupin, Enrichment Program Coordinator, Krier CenterRosemary Catacalos, Executive | Artistic Director, Gemini Ink

Gemini Ink’s work at the Cyndi Taylor Krier Juvenile Correctional Treatment Center

and this publication were made possible byThe Cyndi Taylor Krier Juvenile Correctional Treatment Center

Student work has been edited as lightly as possiblein order to honor the original voices

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ForewordYO SOY – I AM: The New Voices of Brave Young Poets

By Gregg Barrios, Writer-in-Residence

There is a wise dicho in Spanish: Cada cabeza es un mundo. Every individual is unique in this world.

When Writers in Communities at Gemini Ink asked me to facilitate and teach a poetry writing class last fall, I was honored to be part of this innovative program that sends professional writers into diverse community settings to work with teens to develop their own unique voice through oral traditions, reading, and creative writing.

The workshop was open to incarcerated youth at the Cyndi Taylor Krier Juvenile Correctional Treatment Center. The twelve students selected came from Mexican American and African American backgrounds.

“Who are you?” The Caterpillar asks Alice. “I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

Yo Soy/I Am was the title of the four-month workshop. My goal was to use their identity as a springboard to finding their voice: What’s your name? What does an ID say about you and your background? Is your given name the one you prefer? Would you change it? Why?

The first evening I used Shirley Ellis’ classic pop song, “The Name Game” since it is interactive by encouraging the listener to add their name to the lyrics of a song: “I betcha I can make a rhyme out of anybody’s name.” The game proved daunting at first – but they soon realized its rhyme and reason had roots in the more familiar world of rap and hip-hop.

Later that evening they wrote prose on their definition of success. To get them to read aloud what they wrote, I played the instrumental drum and beat track from hip-hop artist Drake’s hit “Successful.”

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By validating their music with poetry, their definition of poetry was changing and offering new possibilities, and their prose statement converted itself into vibrant poetry.

But this was a tough young group. They tested me. They wanted to hear me read my work, know my life experiences. They interviewed me as I had them. And while having a supervisor in the class might have been a safety net, by the third session we had forgotten anyone else was in the room.

Some of our greatest literature has been written in prison. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote, the first modern novel in jail. Henry David Thoreau spent a night in jail as a protest. Other writers in recent times have written poetry, memoirs, and essays while incarcerated - from George Jackson and Angela Davis in the 1960s to raulrsalinas and Jimmy Santiago Baca in the 1970s.

Each generation picks its literary heroes. And certainly the late Tupac Shakur would be high on that list; however, it wasn’t until they read his book of poetry The Rose That Grew From Concrete that they saw the sensitive and tender side of the gangster rapper.

They also found two unlikely poetic heroes: Maya Angelou and Bob Dylan. Angelou’s “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” brought a shock of recognition and kinship, while her description of how she changed her name from Marguerite Johnson to Maya brought smiles to their faces. Bob Dylan singing “Subterranean Homesick Blues” in DA Pennebaker’s Don’t Look Back took special significance once we discussed its meaning. They watched mesmerized as “the old hippie” beat poet Alan Ginsberg passes the torch to a new generation in the film’s opening.

Later, the students took one of their poems and while a classmate read it aloud, the poet aped Dylan by flipping flashcards with words that often were words within words: “REVOLUTION” on closer inspection one card contained the italicized word LOVE backwards.

And yes, they preferred to learn the mechanics of sonnets instead of “kid stuff” haikus. They wrote the 14-line poems in the style of Shakespeare and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Each measured the iambic and labeled the rhyme scheme. One evening was spent in

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deep discussion on why a line like “and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death” was so dark and beautiful and inspirational.

Each class would begin with my reading from a poet’s work, later they would bring poems from books I had loaned them. When they heard poems by local poets Cynthia Harper and José Montalvo and learned both were from San Antonio and deceased, they felt an immediate bond, asking how old they were and how they died.

Each session ended with the students reading their own work. I was amazed by the energy that emanated from them and the pride with which they tested new work hoping for the approval and constructive suggestions to make the work complete. Their five-minutes on stage gave them a new sense of empowerment.

Were we successful? The answer lies in this chapbook – the creative harvest from the workshop. In it, you will hear the voice of young poets, your sons and daughters, your brothers and sisters, your nieces and nephews, tus amigos y vecinos.

Under the most difficult of situations, they have risen to the task of creating a poem out of their imagination, out of their view of the world. These young artists embody the lessons and struggles we all recognize – first love, growing up, crime, hardship, hunger for justice, the pursuit of happiness, and hope and freedom in the future.

For some, their poetry and prose will grow and mature. For others, this may be the first and only time. I hope not. But more important is the fact that they now know there is an option to channel their passions and experiences in a nonviolent and creative way to which the greater society can take heed and listen.

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I would be remiss without acknowledging the persons who make this all possible, and who worked unceasingly to provide this opportunity for the young poets: Gemini Ink director Rosemary Catacalos; Anisa Onofre, WIC director; and Jessica Maupin, counselor and guardian angel at JCTC. Mil gracias. And thanks to the San Antonio Current for permission to reprint this introduction that first appeared in their pages.

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Table of Contents

ADedicationtoYou Taylor S. 15MyLife Rudy F. 16 MotherCourage Taylor S. 17BrownThreattoSociety Alejandro V. 18Untitled Erick M. 19VarrioProduct Alejandro V. 2012-05-91 Erick M. 22I’llNeverForget Erick M. 23August30,2009 Trevon M. 24HatredinMyHeart Michael P. 25Pursuit Trevon M. 27BeingBlack Trevon M. 28MyStateofMind Bryan S. 30Untitled Bryan S. 33HumanMotherBeasts Bryan S. 34TheCoffin Sebastian F. 35SummerNight-August24,2009 Sebastian F. 36Myself Caleb P. 37Falling Savannah F. 38Victorious,Prosperous,Fortunate:IsThatWhatYou Callit? Savannah F. 39Victims Savannah F. 40 IDespise Taylor S. 41SorryforYourLoss Rudy F. 43RazaorNada Michael P. 44ToMyDarkSide Michael P. 46LifeisintheEyeoftheBeholder Savannah F. 48

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ADEDICATIONTOYOUTaylorS.

Danielle is your everythingShe is what every girl should beSmart, elegant, and humorousIt’s never going to be the samePlease don’t take all the blameIf you need a shoulder to cry onI’ll wipe the tears ‘til they’re goneYou inspired me to stay aliveYou kept me from taking my lifeMy mom couldn’t help at the timeI thank you for saving my lifeI offer this poem for all you didFor loving through thick and thinHelping me keep the will to live

ForAuntPuffy

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MYLIFERudyF.

It’s a warm summer night, can’t go to sleepGun shots, sirens, and can’t go to sleepI struggle to make peace, but still we’re at warFighting the endless battle, don’t know what it’s forDad ain’t home, Mamma ain’t thereGo to the fridge, ain’t nothing thereGo to the streets, I’ll find something thereIt’s “tough luck,” my dad used to say Hustling on a cold rainy dayI pop a pill to ease my mind, keeping away the thought of doing time Mom died in ’99, brother doing 59

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MOTHERCOURAGETaylorS.

It takes sacrifice, fear for your lifeAnd love to do what you didSomething I would notHave been able to doYou were fading in front of meWhy didn’t you let go?Dying each night and dayBrought me to tearsDamned nurses and doctors heedlessThey knew you were very illYou were quivering deathlikeTo the point of no returnSacrificing your life for my sister AsiaJust to see her grow up and smileYou are phenomenally courageousIt could have taken you to the deathbedIt takes sacrifice, fear for your lifeAnd love to do what you didSomething I would notHave been able to do

Mom,Iloveyou.

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BROWNTHREAT2SOCIETYAlejandroV.

A menace to society and a vago from the hoodAnd porque my skin is brownPeople assume I’m up to no goodThey don’t feel safe when I’m aroundThey look down on me cuando hablo EspanglishA bloodthirsty descendant of the AztecsPorque I don’t speak the “proper” languageI speak what’s known as Tex-MexBecause I come from the Deep SouthAnd have aggressive attitude towards peopleBut in my life, there’s been nothing to smile aboutIt’s full of sin, struggles, and evilAll they show is resentment and fearBut if you look closely into my eyesYou’ll see the pain from all those troubled yearsI disguise it with black shades in daylightAnd at night wash it away with a case of beersBut still at times in the still of the nightAlone in the dark I fight away tearsPero no me entiendes, you can’t understandWhen the odds are against you, how can you prosper?When during childhood you become a manAnd after that derange into a monsterThis is for all my misunderstood brothersWho won’t settle for minimum wagesWho are a danger to themselves and othersFor all the carnales confined up in cages

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UNTITLEDErickM.

Dreams deserted burnt the surfaceYet find that silence Is picture perfect Sinner’s tormentA mind divine as thisI try with rhyme defining lifeA criminal unravelingThe twine of mind confined in timeLiving with insanityDamnation by humanityCold conviction of my spiritSociety denying my pleaBold nonfiction though, why hear it?Is how they think and so they choseI guess to simply not thenRid the streets of the poetTo whom the doors are lockedMany times I’ve been incarceratedAwoke in straight jacket hospitalsBut kept determination and inspirationDespite of all these obstaclesDo you know what it’s likeTo pray until you fall asleep?Handcuffs tearing your fleshAnd shackles on your feet?I’m a son; I’m a brotherI’m a lover; and future father tooBut to the law and the judgesI’m nothing - but a fucking monster!

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VARRIOPRODUCTAlejandroV.

A Mexican trying to liveSurvive through tribulationTrying to become someoneMake it in this White nationThey won’t hire him porqueNo tiene sus papersSo self employed in the streetsMakes feria with the pagerSeems his lifestyle’s a sinHe’s become a stereotypeOf the typical brown skinHe’s been set up for failureFrom the day that his was bornGrew up in the varrioLiving off raspas and cornHis dad’s an alcoholicMama’s always so depressedHe knows he’s a screw upBut remains to do his bestAlways does what he can doKeeps steady never shakenTakes off running for his lifeEvery time he smells the baconYou can see him from LAAll the way to San Anto‘Cause he is just another Product of the varrio

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12-05-91ErickM.

One love, one God, one life to liveYour touch, your bod, our minds in blissIs it the long black hair or those just right hips?Maybe the way you stare or the way you kiss?From your head to your feet, your beautiful creamy colorIt’s you I’ll never deceive, I’ll never dream of anotherYour brown eyes are jewels, your smile like diamondsYour soul has no trace of cruel; it’s only you I confide inI cannot wait for the moment that I can hold in my armsMy beautiful loving angel to whom I’ll never do harmIt’s you that changed my life, and saved me from the streetsWith you and only you, baby girl, I feel complete.It never dies, only will rise, look in my eyes, Baby I love youYou are the skies, my prize, my wife, Baby, my one true

Totheloveofmylife,AlisonM.

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I’LLNEVERFORGETErickM.

Only Lord knows how hard it is raising two kids in the cityOn top of that, being a single mother, never showing self-pityYou show me unconditional love, even though I’m undeservingThrough the things you say and do, I trust I’ll stay forever learningYou told me all that matters is what’s inside and that I triedYou taught me never give up and in my roots to take prideNever have you led me wrong, only spoke what’s real to open my eyesSo I can see the dangers in these streets and how to tell the truth from liesWith all my sins piled so high, I’m unworthy to be called your sonBut you find it in your heart to overlook the things I’ve doneI remember all the times for us to have you went withoutEven so I never heard one complaint from out your mouthI’m not the best at accepting or expressing affection This is to say, “I love you” for the times I failed to mention

Formylovingmother,LupitaM.

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AUGUST30,2009TrevonM.

People always say to a certain childYou got so much potentialYou just don’t knowDon’t waste it on the life you’re livingThey tell me advice all the timeLike you’re heading down the wrong roadYou better turn around before it’s too lateBut to me there aren’t any u-turnsWhy make a u-turn to turn aroundWhen I’ve already chosen the path I’m going?Is there really any point to turning aroundJust because I might die a little earlier than usual?I see no point in running away from what I choseThis flesh I’m in isn’t really meIt’s just my protection for the time beingBut either way, one day I gotta goSo why not make it earlier than laterBecause the way I’m goingI must be going for reasonBecause if it wasn’t for a reasonLike I ask myself why I amHeading down this road?

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HATREDINMYHEARTMichaelP.

There’s hatred in my heart, I had it from the very startStarted one day when I was 5 playingWhen someone told me right up frontThat the family I had was not mineGuess what went through my mind?I became enraged King Kong in a cageI had to learn to take it in my strideI had hatred in my heart, I knew from the very startI took it day by day I didn’t know whyBut I know someone would have to payNo way to cheer me on like momI know I would have to be strongIt made me cry praying not to go insaneI tried to learn to take it in my strideI had hatred in my heart, I knew from the very startI would have to embark on a voyageI would have to keep my pain in storageTill I was ready to tell my storyTo all the kids adopted like meI share your painful journeyI learned to take life in my stride

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PURSUITTrevonM.

Pursuit is just the act of pursuingPursuing is just the verb of pursuePursue is just the noun of captureAnd capture is what I doMy pursuit is becoming a rapperPursuit on gaining knowledgePursuit on also gaining intellectPursuit on getting my preyMy prey is knowledge and paperI put those two together to expressThrough writing utensils and paperPursue the thing I do bestPursue my dream through all the painAll the confusion and the sorrowI strive to succeed I strive to be betterI persist on pursuing while I pursue

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BEINGBLACKTrevonM.

Dark skinned, dark brown eyesSlender in frame, my disguiseSmall in person but big in heartBeen a target since the very startDone been through hard timesNo bologna or white breadSeeing Mom prostituteIn the middle of her bedBlack is beauty in this worldThere is no other like itChocolate caramel colored skinI wish everybody liked itBeauty is in the skinThe beast is what you seeBeauty is in the eye of the beholderWhy can’t you see me?Why do I think black is beautifulEven in the event of its demise?Seeing everyone mourning‘Cause a black man died?Being Black ain’t easyThere are definitely strugglesPapers filled with chargesA Juvenile record never coversWe came from the bottomAnd shot straight to the topShout out to all my brothersWho do it with their heartsBlack is beauty, you see

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Skin melting chocolate candyAfrican AmericanIt’s what I amYou look into these dark brown eyesAnd say you see a devilish manThat’s what whites told my ancestorsEach time they raised a hand“I’ll whip the devil out of you”Is what master used to sayBut I’m a free man nowRefuse to cock it and spraySo look into this young man’s eyesTrying hard to succeedTo make it in this devilish worldWhere being black ain’t easy

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MYSTATEOFMINDBryanS.

Louisiana my state and my state of mindInfected with post traumatic stress disorderSince I was a little younger than fiveSo many memories I wish I could deleteLike seeing my family’s enemies roll up the streetThey opened fire some of my people hit the floorMy cousins took cover, returned fireAutomatic gunshots till they all expireI was four I didn’t know what was going onI just hid till it was all overGot a little older, I was like 10Walking up the streets of TidwellWatching babies play with broken trikesMamas inside hitting the crack pipeJust babies in shitty diapersDaddy’s got money, sitting in the ViperPushing the same thing their mamas are onBut I couldn’t talk, because I’m pushing it tooBut not for no diamonds or goldBut for my mama, who stays up all night cryingCuz her baby is running the streetsHeard some police sirensAnd her heart skipped a beatBecause she knows it’s me in the back seatOr even worse, me on some back street Shot up and deadI tried to convince her, I’m just trying to keep us fedShe cries every time I throw her a stack of billsI cry inside when I see her take her heart pills

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Seeing my mama ill kills me insideShe got that cancer and diabetesI tell her that hurts me more than the streets doAnd even then I grewI was fourteen when I started bangingGreat grandparents were Black PanthersGrand pappy was a “Crip” so I became one tooPut a gun in my hand and showed me how to shootI remember taking it to school everydayJust hoping somebody had something stupid to sayCuz I’ll be quick to grip my ironAnd pull out their mind for everyone to seeGrand pappy loved that his grandson was a GWhen I was 16 Grand pappy got hit with life, four times overHe’ll spend the rest of his life in Angola, maximum securityAll a young nigger can do is pour a little liquor When I miss’emThis thug life got em catching up to God quickerAnd I’m right behind emJust a heavy weight on my way to Heaven’s gateHoping I don’t get denied for all the sins I didn’t repent forI’m sixteen now and can’t read, write, or spellJust a young nigger on his way to hellOnly skills I got is robbing and stealingOnly options I have is prison or six feet underBut still I wonder, if I could go back to day 1What would I change? Not a thingI speak about Louisiana like it’s all I knowAnd I’m not talking about the Casinos

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or Mardi GrasThat makes tourists think it’s a beautiful placeI’m talking about the poverty where I’ll probablyDie before eighteen and damn I’m only seventeen

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UNTITLEDBryanS.

A cold, dark and lonely alleyAn old dog lays afraid of peopleAll it gets is yells and screams“Get, get away, and go!”Ribs easy to see as he struggles to breathe,Tics and fleas eat at his once beautiful coatNow infected with mangeHeartworms digging holesIn its heart where love used to beEyes blurry, hard to seeCuts and bruises on toes make walking briefCavities in all its teeth making it hard to eatThe pang of hunger making it difficult to sleepTill one day a little girl with a hotdog walkingIt is more than a feast for its eyesAs its face lightened up for just a tasteA nearby officer reaches under his waistGripping his .45, finger never slippingHe pulls three rounds to its headNow in peace an old dog lays

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HUMANMOTHERBEASTSBryanS.

Elegant beasts impregnated against their willFor purebred babies made to kill Monstrous moms Distorted souls locked in battleOverused like a horse and saddleOwners watch and get their kicksAs these fierce moms get nicked and bitIf their necks are reached they may lose their litterMay lose their lives as they struggle to surviveTheir souls begin to lock like push and pullGive and take their legs start to shakeSome of these beasts’ mate is their brotherSo to the litter its aunt and its motherA mother’s love is like no otherCan you feel it as you get smothered?Never doubt the pain of your motherTo give more than they haveAnd show you their loveSo take these absurd wordsAs we live with the women we loveWe as people are nothing moreThan the beasts we domesticate

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THECOFFINSebastianF.

It’s dark. It’s small. You can’t moveYou can’t breathe. You’re thinkingWhere am I going? Where am I?You look for the light but can’t find itYou’re crying and yelling for helpNo one comes then it comes to youEverything rushing as a bulletThe party, the drinking, the chickYou go home, your wife waiting“You smell like another woman!You’re fucking dead!” She saidYou feel the gun to your headNow you know, you’re deadIn a suit lying in a coffin bed.

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SUMMERNIGHT-AUGUST24,2009SebastianF.

Love is strong like a rose in the summerYou see the rose as the burning hot sunYou see your heart burning for a loved oneThe rose falls from its beautyYou cry when nights comeYour beauty cries for light to comeShine on the rose for its beauty to comeBut the rose never gets its beautyYour love cries for summers to comeYou stay crying for the nightNever hurt your beauty becauseIt will prick you like a thornAnd you will cry because it hurtsWhen the rose blooms in the summerIts beauty is more beautiful than youYou cry for the nights to comeAnd cry for the thorn that hurts youNever let beauty bloom in summerAnd when nights come tellYour beauty she’s beautifulFor when summer comes the painFrom the rose thorns remains

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MYSELFCalebP.

Everyday when I wake up I think about my momI think about my Dad, my brothers and my sistersWho visit me every weekBut when I end up in BCU*And don’t get to see them it gets me sadI have no reason not to get in troubleGet restrained, and make it doubleEven after all the times I’ve destructed propertyKicking in my window, punching holes in the wallThrowing desks, stabbing holes in a basketballI still have to live with myself And as my time goes byI want to be able to look myself straight in the eyeBut I don’t want to stand in the setting sunAnd hate myself for the things I’ve doneI can never hide myself from meI see what others may never seeAnd as long as I live with myselfNo matter how hard I tryYou will always see me

*BehavioralControlUnit

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FALLINGSavannahF.

I’m not falling face down againIt is just so hard to make any sense Yet still less easy to conceiveWhat do I have to do with these questions? Still living a mysteryEvery word you’ve said wasn’t worth itThere will be oh no more fightingWhenever fate shall dispose of me When shall all be exciting?I’m so stuck without knowing what is the matterI’m starting to get enragedIt’s probably indifferenceThrough circumstancesJust by wanting to escape the truthI am reaching in to all my conflictionsEven though they’re all so pollutedNow I have such disordered stepsAnd while my mood has increasedWhy won’t I just stop and fade away now?By the weight of our sorrow, LoveLove, I’m not falling face down again

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VICTORIOUS,PROSPEROUS,FORTUNATE:ISTHATWHATYOUCALLIT?SavannahF.

This one is particular than no other, but favorable in all resultsThis one in which I mention is quite often precludedFor the wealthy, or inferior, to easily consumeVery few people seem to manage the valueThe high standards and even the quantityYou are all so mixed up, like a parade of opinionsContradictions welcoming each otherIt’s quite understood we are our own individualsYet excuses, excuses, individuals or not, We’re still not a wholeWho are you to say what defines the truth?You are aware that we’re nowhere close To the state of mind as GodAll we have is what we’re grown to knowSo how do we actually know That what we’re taught really is the truth?While listening to some cop out trying to explain and preach the truthWhile looking at the soul withinRealization then sinks inWe all have it but do not know it or never find itSuccess that is

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VICTIMSSavannahF.

My victims come out looking as if they saw the deadNo more chances cause you don’t deserve itI’m seeking my revengeSo you know it’s not okAnd if you still don’t understandI swear that these tortures will force the truth awayBut I know the truth’s not fairI’m seeking my revengeBetter watch out cause I’m back againI don’t know if you’re ever gonna recoverI mean do you even know what torment means?Wake up wake upBecause this is the shattered meThat’s not known nearly wellI can see you’re still puzzledAnd you don’t have to beYou’re only hurting yourself

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IDESPISETaylorS.

To look into his desperate eyesHow much strength he had over meI despiseTo see my body exposed for the first timeTo see him caress my breast and feel meTo see myself giving inBecause you knowCompeting with himI will never win

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SORRYFORYOURLOSSRudyF.

Sorry for your lossSorry for the strugglesMissing a loved oneSomeone so close to youYour heart eating awayWith memories of himThinking about the bad timesAnd the goodRain and shineGod has plans for usEven though it hurtsHe’s in a better place nowUp and above with angelsWith him in time eternally

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RAZAORNADAMichaelP.

Homeboy, it’s Raza or no oneCuz we’ll blow a hole in your skullIt’s raza from Los to San AntonIt’s like eh homes run into the cantonGet the chrome before we get our head blownPuro pelons from the city of angels to the ToneThe count down city where they show no pityHomies, know your menteWhen it comes to our genteWe no chapetes but carry big cuetesI’m asking you to pray for my razaCuz we’re going through tuff masaI try to be strong for my peopleBut know that we can be lethalHomey, keep your mind rightWe all want to live in the limelightBut just keep your head rightBecause the Fed’s up to somethingSo keep trucha for the juraHomeboys, respect your jefas and rucasLord, praise your name, show us the waySimon, homeboy you know what it isYou know, Ese, it’s a crooked bizLa Raza having kids they can’t supportBut they still strive for what they needWe know money and fame turns to greedHomes, we are strong peopleOur want is for people to see that we are equalAnd to salute the Latinos in the Chevy Caminos

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To my carnales, slanging the jale, I know a ti te valeHomeboy, think about your madre y padreAnd if they know what you were doingDon’t ruin what they’ve sacrificed 4 UI know we show no remorse, fooJust believe we can get through itAs I end this verse rememberOnly Raza can cap out the curse

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TOMYDARKSIDEMichaelP.

Why do you hold me back?Is it cuz I’m Mexican and a little black?But I don’t care what the reasonMexican blood is what I’m bleedingYou can call what you believeI know I can achieve anythingAs long as you stay awayI believe I’m going to payFor my sins that I’ve doneThere’s no place to run or hideBecause deep down insideI know I can become somethingI’m a human beingThat’s the opposite of what I feelBecause I feel like a caged animalWaiting to be killed is no thrillIt gives me a creepy chillI’m not who you think I amI’m not Mexican but I’m a Mexi-canAnd I’m a super powerful androidThat refuses and cannot be destroyedThe darkness is just a decoyFor me to deployMy good sideNot the hood sideBut the real personThe one that’s really hurtingI’m working for the right sideYou know that light side

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Not the dark night sideTo my dark sideI’m on the wrong sideYou know I’m going to rideWhen my good and evil collideSo watch as I igniteThe words that I recite

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LIFEISINTHEEYEOFTHEBEHOLDERSavannahF.

In one direction only, it will surely fade From the ones who keep it from withdrawalNo way and any way will it distantlySeem to have happened, will it shatter all doubt? They will break the ones that are so very strong And yet weak from end to endDead, invisible, capacity lowYour entire life you might as well sendEven struck from beyond, never the lessThey’re also living to their senses tooNo one notices you’re alive, only ifYou consider it selfish, shameful bluesI know you have that missing piece in youI can see it because I hold it too

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