Traveled Poem by John Shea

The flight was a long one
Bumpy but fun.
At seventeen years of age young.

The Andes lingered near at arrival,
Now started my fight for survival.
At seventeen and a rival.

My cousins were cruel and ill fated,
Because my prowess that they under estimated.
Soon the streets were but my mate.

Taken in by a kindly doctor
Who had kennels that needed upkeep.
I managed to learn and not weep.
I was quite a sad black sheep.

In servitude for a year
But treated real fair.
I lost my Irish cool.
Then I went to the real spanish school.

There were bars and a grate
Into which to urinate.
Wondering what was my fate.

My fate and my families in the house where I hit the street
Were blessed by Americans who cared about our plight
They sent us back to the ground we kissed with tears in our eyes
The fight I fought was just a suprise
To God Bless my family
With another American sunrise

Love John.