Tears in the Barrio

When I was in gang
In the grimy streets of my youth,
I lost many friends to colors.
When a homie would die,
We'd get drunk and pour a 40oz
And go out for revenge.
But thugs dont cry.

Twenty years later I find
The tombstone of Cesar Ramirez,
I visit my old friend and street buddy.
He cannot speak to me,
And I remember the thug I was.

As a man I remember,
Now, as a man I cry.

Author's Note

My old life, a reflection of then and now.