...I sit beside the fire and think, of how the world will be, when winter comes without a spring, that I shall ever see.. but this time, I realise that sometimes, when I step outside, and feel the hard cement under my feet, from my childhood street, I forget the kid who I used to be, and I don't recognize myself in any of those who are today running around . But yes, soon, it all comes back to me.., I remember 3pm from monday to friday , me seeing my father coming home from work, I welcome him with an embrace, and he, passing his hand over my shoulder. I remember how heavy it felt, and rough. My father was a factory worker, he worked his ass off to keep food on table for me and my brother, and still, he had some time saved in his back pocket to spend with his family and his people. He was a pillar for the community, and for me, he was my hero, hell.., he still is my hero. Many lessons I learned through him...
Now I pull air into my chest, my chin is up, I step into the alley, ready for the trip, but more important, I know who I am. I am a man, I am a soldier, I am your son.
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