Mango Poem by Rafael Cazares

Mango Malmsteen
was a good, innocent child
But instead of having a halo hanging over his head
It was the dread of a dark cloud
that followed little Malmsteen around.
He was fragile and pure
Until the lure of malevolence
Made its stamp-
and from that he could find no cure
wherever he roamed at.
An illusion of kindness
He was dealt,
A darkness like no other
He had felt.
And so as he made his pass
Through the park
A little, blue hyacinth grew
Where he was harassed;
For now he was much older,
Bolder
In a world which was now colder...


This flower was his singular hope.