This is the only poem I’ve ever written. I wrote it after my wife passed away. It feels good to share a piece of me with the world.
Poem
My name is Michael Anthony
The name I received at birth
I had it beaten into me
For what it’s really worth
I took my lumps like any kid
I smiled when I was sad
There’s no excuse for what he did
I hated my step dad
I raised myself out in the street
That’s how I got my style
Deadly with my hands and feet
No normal juvenile
We moved around alot
I wanted mom to stay
A criminal, I soon was caught
And sent to C.Y.A
Know for breaking body parts
The power was a rush
Highly skilled in martial arts
They came to call me Crush
Too big for C.Y.A to hold
Too dangerous to like
Prison made me twice as bold
They called me Silent Mike
Not because I’m quiet
Or lack something to say
It’s the silence of my violence
And my quiet getaways
Parole meant I could do more crimes
But then I met my wife
Her soul knew mine from ancient times
That woman changed my life
We had three children thankfully
Two daughters and a son
Mika, Stone and Sami. D.
For them my heart had come undone
They taught me how be a man
To be a loving dad
A husband who would make
To give them the things I never had
The violence was inside of me
But under tight control
Through different eyes I learned to see
I filled the family role
But being me I had my toys
Fast cars and lots of drugs
I always raised a lot of noise
My homeboys were all thugs
I went out for an easy deal
To simply sell a gun
But things quickly became surreal
And I was on the run
I’d crushed again to save myself
Though Silent Mike was dead
Ironic that to save myself
I lost myself instead
I saw my family one more time
Before they captured me
The media hyped up the crime
And lied about me on T.V.
My family mostly paid the cost
My children and my wife
And when I went to trial I lost
They gave me seventy-nine to life
And tragedy had just begun
No pain can comprehend
In wreckage lives had come undone
And that was not the end
But I have learned humility
And patience, and respect
At last I’m finally being me
The one I most neglect
The future surely holds more pain
But I have an iron will
I’m Michael Anthony again
A work in progress still.
