DEAR DISTANT RELATIVE
Contemplations heavy:
What is to be passed down?
Whose identity exist in the infancy of kids?
Which culture wins —
one lived within a working home
or taught and preached in schools, on streets?
Legacies often remain in graves.
Untold stories of survival left laying
beneath tear-softened topsoil,
wails of a memory
that holds on and forgets
to pass down the knowledge that is left.
Oh, teach me now
for the generations to come.
Let me not miss the mark
of leaving my love in a manifesto.
Recorded trials, triumphs, and failure great lessons
disposition of morals that reason with freedom.
Dear distant one, the time has come
my death bed nears, and I feel I’ve won.
Though you’ll never know the sounds I make,
you’ll feel the warmth of my words embrace.
You matter beyond all circumstance;
worth more than your mistakes,
loved before I could even see
the hope of all that you can be. | HC
HUGH CROW II IS FROM BEND, OREGON. HE IS OF NATIVE AND DUTCH ANCESTORY. HE HAS BEEN WRITING SINCE HIS YOUTH. IN OREGON YOUTH AUTHORITY AT AGE 14, HE RELIED HEAVILTY ON WRITING AS AN OUTLET.
