I Am Not...

I am not the memory of a hard mother's voice staccatod like gunfire of "Why don't you?" "Why can't you?" I am the desire to flow clear like a silver river floating free like a butterfly on wings of poetry. I am not the words of some catchy corrido lustily sung nor the mere rhetoric written on banners waved vigorously. Nor the graffiti painted alongside Che Guevara's likeness underneath the international bridge at Juarez/El Paso. I am more the tears of women the hunger pangs of children the red of spilled blood youth's undying hope a city's choked back but bloossoming dreams I am the sacred words: Sobrevivir Sobre salir. * Note- a corrido is a traditional Mexican ballad, often of outlaws, a tragedy etc. but always telling a story. The last two lines mean: Survive, Rise Above or Transcend.