PACO

To Jay-Jay “the play-day,” my childhood would not have colors if it were not for you. Salamat pare!


Paco was a young boy.
A young boy he was.
He had an innocence to him.
A face that was never grim.
He frolicked in the playground,
broke his arm but didn’t make a sound.

He was a brave boy,
A brave boy he was.
Never backing down to adventure.
Always pushing the envelope further and further.
Paco swam the deeper side of the shores,
always looking for new beaches to explore.

Paco was a sweet boy,
A sweet boy he was.
The women found him adorable.
He was always the more lovable.
He took praises with a grain of salt.
His traits made him worthy to exalt.

Paco was not ordinary,
There was nothing ordinary about that boy.
Take one glance at him and you’ll see
He could be anything he wanted to be;
he could have climbed the highest mountains,
crossed the vastest fields, and swam the deepest oceans.

But he held the hand of the devil,
Then he became a rebel.
He ran through the desolation,
Seeking a life of condemnation.
His age washed away his dreams,
and now everything is not what it seemed.

Paco became a bad man,
a bad man Paco became.
His confessions of being high,
bid the innocent child a painful goodbye.
His lethargic slavery,
took away all his audacity.
His artificial emotions,
took away his sweet disposition.

Still Paco is a good friend,
a good friend Paco is.
He was the brother I never had,
a presence that always made me glad.
O, how a sweet beginning led to a tragic end.
Now I no longer recognize my treasured friend.

But on a brighter note,
hope still floats.
As the present becomes yesterday,
and the future becomes today.
Paco looks for the boy again,
then his dreams will re-awaken.
A day I long to see,
the day when his dreams become reality.