The Island Youth

He left Guadeloupe without a dime
Young, broke and proud
Loud as an angry crowd
And without notion of time
He realized his life was complex like a street rhyme
Sour and bitter like lime
Yet, sweet and sublime
From his mouth not a word was spoken
his English grammar was broken
Like an ancient gold token
In his pocket, was only six hundred dollar and fifty
Alone in a foreign country
He felt so small and lost in this big city
But his dreams kept him going
Even when he didn't know what he was doing
He stayed strong
He dreamed of his island, his land, his paradise
He gave in exchange to be paralyzed
By this society's verbal stroke - they've spoke
In a beautiful world where we are terrorized
By words and brutalized
By men in uniform of brutality
Violating their oath and social responsibility
Which country would offer him proper hospitality?
He is just an island youth
Speaking his own truth