They all bleed the same,
Just as long as you remember the meaning to your name.
you may hear,
Let these names make you strong and bold,
Never let them make you fear.
I am sorry, that by now this world has only gotten worst,
But I trust as you grow you’ll be courageous, and not a curse.
Your skin is not white like Daddy,
Sometimes you wonder why,
Because God let the sun kiss your flesh,
The apple if His eye.
Curls and coils,
Straight and course,
Your hair tells a story with no remorse…
Of Africans shackled,
Singing old spirituals,
Native Americans and their fireside rituals.
To the Portuguese and Italians, who found their homes in Cuba,
Where Fidel has been loved and loathed, and many with mixed feelings towards Che Guevara.
Through all of that dirt lies the beauty of free art…..
Havana, where your Grandparents,
Ma and Papito ,had to part.
In the Carolinas and Far Rockaway, where through me you learned to be country and city,
Now you know why Mommy is so tough and so pretty💎.
And your Daddy.. His palm trees🌴, coco and Spanish tongue….
He won me over with those Spanish ballads, when he sung.🎶
From Gospel to Merengue,
From Bird Songs to rock,
To all of the foods and stories,
Is always in stock.
So while you search for who you are,
keep these things in mind,
God made only “1” of you.
You are special and one of a kind.
(For my 6 year old, little man)