El Borachito

My people rose up from nothing
to be nothing

said an old man
in a cantina

his warm beer
like the arm

of a good woman
wasted on him

who had seen
better days

had high hopes
for his people

promised his wife
a bright future

promised his children
the world

now he drank his beer
in a hole in the wall

his raza
would be great once again

complete with gritos he said---
dreams die hard.