Chicano Poet

Thursday, September 19, 2013

My Old Hometown

My old hometown
made me strong

even though it always said
you do not belong.

Walking down its streets,
my heart broken,

my soul told me---
you not retreat.

Sometimes you fight,
sometimes you run.

The streets of my neighborhood
did their best to ease my pain.

When I asked for sun,
I was given rain.

When I asked
for just a chance,

I had to dodge
the lance.

But my old hometown
made me strong.

It asked for blood,

I gave it song.


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