My hands are tied.

I say 'It's my life'.

Ninetee sixty-nine, the day had come.
The stars were shining out on the street.
The hospital ward barred and some
patients howling at their own beat.

A loud cry in the dark
legs split apart
My mother's suffering
My birth's beginning.

Nineteen seventy-five, Franco's died.
I'm starting to walk and see the world.
This country's changing wide
like a snail's shell in my hands curled.

A voice from the set
He is just one more dead
My parents seem not to care
They simply think it is fair.

Nineteen eighty-two
I composed my Naranjito plate
I still stumble on my foot
Yet so much time to recreate.

A knock on the door
police in uniform
My sister disbeliefs.
I shit on my briefs.

Nineteen eighty-seven.
My first job a disaster
I look around aned ask for Heaven.
The gym teacher urges me faster.

The end of the season.
My life seems in bloom.
Now I see no reason
why shouldn't leave soon.

The night in pain.
The tests ominous.
My life in strain.
My foes are ravenous.

Nineteen ninety-two.
Bliss calls on my phone.
No need to be rude.
Life's prepared me a throne.

A death on the road
My fate is then sowed.
Donation of life.
My heart leaves its strife.

Nineteen ninety-five.
London's a marvellous city.
I am eager to arrive.
Going with Jordi's a pity.

Nineteen ninety-five, August.
Bad news from my health.
Now that my life seemed focused
I have to face Death.

This is the story of my life
up to this moment.
Intertwined like a beehive,
I feel myself despondent.

No future for me
My heart's ecstasy
has now flown away
and I feel waylaid.

Why does it happen to me?
Why not to my neighbour?
Will you come close to me
and be my lifelong saviour?

Tony, August'95

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