Portside

Differences
By Rosie Flores

It all started when my granny crossed over
To be in the U.S to celebrate the Passover
And one day she’d be the next crossover
So, watch out for the low riders jumpin’ over her corners
Life was hard according to her memory
Spending anniversaries and birthdays at the cemetery
Chicanos tried to keep the culture alive
Because of the scary “vatos en la calle killing their own kind”
We speak accents untouched by time
We tell stories of memories through the years with worries to die
Fearing for the future was a pain of the past,
The past led to their life’s future and some never seemed to last
Roses are red and we are brown
One thing about la raza is that we never back down, but one thing’s for sure
There is no us without trust and in God we do trust,
But trust we didn’t cross the border the border crossed us
It all started when they began killing our brothers and sisters out there in the street
Never caring to look back at the blood stains they left out on our concrete
Passing by people, exchanging smiles, they looked like the enemy so they still got spit on their feet
Never giving off any heat and still judged from 1979 because of the sounds of their own beat
Most of the neighborhoods see their life in a glimpse
Don’t press the trigger, don’t take away their life, it’s not yours it’s his
Some of which have died
And some are left lucky enough to even make it to the police cruiser alive
Nowadays you’re a felon for wearing a hoodie and walking alone at night
Should we just start roaming the streets naked and cold, no that’s not right
What’s up with this racial divide?
How long is it gonna take till they let us try and finally fight for our lives
It all started with a set of a different faith and belief
Why is that when the people held responsible are killed we get a sense of relief
I thought we all agreed that we didn’t like to go through grief
Worked so hard to be proud Americans and it turns out we’re all the same
Red blooded and still discriminated because of the pronunciation of their names
We’ve got to stop putting the blame on all because that would be the wrong aim
Being struck down by all the lies
We’re all losing our minds because of the tension of heat
Opinions turning into facts, no justice, no peace

Rosie Flores is a 18-year old Los Angeles-area college freshmen who says: For me poetry isn’t about being recognized, it’s about being heard, specifically in this era where people are constantly put down for who they are and what they believe in.  Poetry is all about one’s personal experience in the world.  It’s something that you can call yours and can’t be taken from you.