“These eyes of mine”

These eyes of mine
Have witnessed the innocence of young children dying
Boys and girls knowing about the latest fashion designs,
Partying, violence, and sex before the age of nine.
How I wish I can hug em all
As if they were all mine
And show them
The beauty of being a child during this time
I remember kids…
Running freely in the park,
Giggling when they would hear someone fart,
Hysterically laughing as they got higher and higher
Swinging on the swings
Spreading their arms out,
Imagining they had wings.
Feel liberated…little one
Your imagination is one of the best things in
Life that is free.
They grow up fast
Leaving their childhood in the past, and oh so far.
 Listen to the media that only tears them apart
Telling girls to 
Look just like Rihanna, Megan Fox, and Beyonce
Cut your hair off, wear less clothes,
Practice Miley Cyrus’ performance of “Party in the USA” 
Like she did at the Teen Choice Awards
On that stripper pole.
Parents then say, “They’re fine, it’s just a phase.”
Telling the boys to
Act like Kanye, Eminem, and Lil Wayne.
Repeat and memorize the lyrics and imitate their swag
So you won’t be made fun of for carrying a handbag.
Say, “Fuck em’ ALL!” to release the hidden anger and pain.
It didn’t matter what the color of their skin was or what was their race
Because they were always surrounded by the smiles
Coming from other kid’s face.
Now they have their identity to embrace
Because in schools and groups in society
They are seen as jokes and wasteful space…
Being judged to never succeed, and grow up lame.
There was a girl who
Hated what she saw in her reflection
Doing anything she could do to not receive rejection
She would throw up everything that her stomach had stored.
Thinking about the crush she had on a boy
Shoving her finger down her throat,
Making the chicken nuggets, skittles, and apple she had the whole day
Leaving her body and system by force.
There was screaming and arguing coming from the kitchen room
Realizing that her parents would be getting a divorce soon.
Trying to mute the sound
That came from their mouths
She took a thick razor…
Cutting so deep into her veins
Until she was about to faint.
Blood so dark, so cold, and so red
Tilts her head back
Gets up and slowly cries herself to bed.
The scares are now visible on her arms.
Connecting them like dots or like the stars.
13 years of age,
Surrounded by her families rage
Living in a body were she doesn’t feel accepted
But caged.
Cutting so deep to take away the pain.
Esssssssh…The innocence is dying.
There was once
A little boy.
One day,
He finds, on the floor,
A loaded gun
Grew up being torn apart and now wants to
What he thought was his revenge and fun.
Using it at first to
Pose in front of his bathroom mirror
Reflection so clear…
But all that really showed
Was the soul, inside, that lived in so much fear
He stared stealing candy from the corner store,
Jacking change  from the younger kids for food he would buy to
Satisfy his stomach a little more.
All of a sudden
Shots go off
Shakes his neighborhood with fright.
A 4 year old boy falls off his bike.
An old woman’s scream disappears in the dark night
A woman with a baby in her hand gets shot in the head
A brother runs to his younger sister and
Sings her a song so she can go back to bed.
Little boy with gun, having some fun
There he was
Standing alone. Dead.
Roaming around the city, feeling his body slowly decaying.
He looks at the beautiful stars that
Are reflecting on the bay.
His heart is now hardening like clay.
Only 11 years old…
Tears in his eyes
Knowing he will not see the day
When the sun is shining bright
And turns 12 this coming May.
Police sirens are near
Now everything became clear
Says softly to himself
“Take my own life…
So I can disappear like a firework in this empty, dark, and sad sky.”
The once free soul,
Who wanted to be bold.
Now lies dead
Shivering cold.
*Whisper “bang bang bang…” the innocence is dying.


“How I wish”

How I wish
They didn’t use violence to belittle your character
Shoving their force into you like an excruciating splinter
Making you feel as cold as the winter

How I wish I were in your shoes
So I can know the horrific feeling of being vulnerable, confused
By that significant one that you thought loved you.

How I wish I could tell them all to leave you alone
To stop looking at you as just a sexual object, a satisfying toy,
To rape…no more

How I wish they didn’t put the blame on you
Saying that because of the clothes you wore, your intake of booze 
All led to you being misused and abused.

How I wish you didn’t have to suffer with this permanent tattoo
This scar, painful growing bruise,
That you have to live with because everyone defuses your views
This is something that you didn’t choose,
To be refused of your dignity, your beautiful confidence that you once knew,
All of which have been reduced.

How I wish, how I wish…
You can walk comfortably alone in the night moon light
To not be filled with fright,
Knowing that you are going to be alright
And not think or question if you will be having to fight for your life.

How I wish you can feel safe
At parties, bars, your campus, and any other place
Seeing that you are more than just a pretty face,
That you are a woman filled with virtue and grace

How I wish more males were in this room
To know the reality that many of you go through,
To stop being ignorant about the rape and violence that is TRUE.
Overlooking the marks on your face that are purple and blue
Neglecting the fact that the rape that happened at school could have been you
All because you have a smile on your face that makes it seem as if everything is completely fine and cool.

How I wish your pain can fade away
Stopping the tears in your eyes from raining down your face.
That you didn’t feel like such a waste,

How I wish you didn’t go through this.
That you would once again trust the beauty of a genuine kiss
And that you once again feel appreciated, loved, and remember your existence.

How I wish I can be in your shoes
Just to see what it is to be you
Experience what you go through…

How I wish, how I wish
This can all stop.

About the author

Martin Marquez

My name is Martin Marquez.  I am a 21 year old, young Chican@ male. I was born and raised in the beautiful city of San Francisco, CA. Growing up, my father suffered from an addiction to drugs. Times were rough after he injured his back and couldn't work anymore. My mother was our main provider and my father's terrible habit grew stronger. As the years went on, we had to leave my father.  I was in the 7th grade - that is when I began to write poetry as a way to express myself, as a way to set myself free, and as a way to share my story so I can find someone who can at least know what I'm going through. I continue to write to this day about the amazing mother I have been blessed with, the beautiful struggles that have been set before me, what I witness in the society I live in, and about my proud, brown identity. Because of what I've been through, writing has been my strongest therapy and talent I have discovered. This talent, thankfully, is still with me and I hope it always will be. I now live in South San Francisco, Ca with my mother and younger sister, Monica. Thank the gods and the goddesses that I have reached my last year at Saint Mary's College of California, where I am majoring in Sociology. I cannot wait to graduate nor see where this amazing journey we call life takes me. View all posts by Martin Marquez →

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