Welcome to my poetry blog!

I am a twenty-four brown-eyed Aruban wanderer;
forever questioning where I'm going
and where I've been.
And when I'm not reading,
I'm writing. When I'm not writing, I'm reading.

Furthermore, writing has always been my
way of captivating a deep thought, grief,
lost love, depression and even hatred (sometimes).

Feel free to read and comment on my weird,
puzzling, obsessive, reckless and sometimes
confusing poems. It's all about what you
interpret from them that gets me buzzin'!

Thank you and have fun reading y'all.

-Lily Clarisa

Monday, June 29, 2015

That Could Have Been My Brother

That could have been my brother,
bleeding on foreign dirt
taking his last breath
long away from his journey back home.

They even look alike,
Only Mitch had over twenty years on him,
Family on Dutch soil,
Children who'll never go to the beach
with their father anymore.

That could have been my brother,
I always worried when he barked out a storm,
His loudness just the creation of our culture,
walking through those same streets,
with that stubborn head held up high.

That could have been my brother,
And I too would have demanded justice at their front doors--
But with buckets full of never-ending tears
with the cries of a mourning mother.

It's the only sentence on a loop on the track-list of my mind;
"It could have been my brother..."
It could have been.
It can still be me.
It can still be you.

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