DO YOU SEE?
by Francis Smith
(first published in “Only the Dead Can Kill: Stories from Jail,” ed. Margo Perin)
by Francis Smith
(first published in “Only the Dead Can Kill: Stories from Jail,” ed. Margo Perin)
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Some say the eyes are the windows To the soul When you look in my eyes Do you feel bold . . . get mesmerized And try to hold my gaze Or does the pain you see Make you catch your breath and turn away? When you look at my soul Do you feel whole Feel more secure in your role . . . The part you play every day Every day that you close your eyes To the realities Suffered by me and my breed A holocaust Right here at home On these inner-city streets. When you look in my eyes Why do you gasp . . . Catch your breath? Do you see the wreckage past . . . The senseless death of innocence? When you look at my soul Does it look withered? Do you see all the nights I cried Rivers cold I shivered Lost all alone Without a hand to help me home. So tell me . . . what do you see Can you see me at the age of three Running through Tenderloin streets Surrounded by pimps, bums, junkies, freaks Can you see me at the age of nine Contemplating suicide Drinking wine at the age of ten Are my eyes dim? How about eleven, twelve, thirteen Smoking crack and PCP Log cabin, YGC Can you see the man that molested me Even to this day The painful price I pay If you look through my windows You should pay a toll to see my soul. I paid Every single day. Take a look now Do you see the anger All the chaos, constant danger Who stabbed me five times from behind Was it a stranger Or a friend Can you see the end Did I lose or will I win? When you look at my soul Is it ugly Is there even a true likeness of me? Bright blue eyes, crooked smile. Do you see me as a loving child A cocaine freak Do you see the athlete and the geek? When you look through these windows To my shoulders do you feel my strength Or does what you see make you fold Old, hollow, cold Can you see the stains and the bruise Would you wear my worn-down Tennis shoes. When you look in my eyes Do you see my pride The wealth of love deep inside Do you understand why I’m free Why I wear my heart on my sleeve Go ahead, take a look My life is an open book Just remember Each time you pretend To turn the page Take a gaze See the precious life I saved Then knock on the door And stay. |