A raw and haunting free verse poem exploring vulnerability, silence, public humiliation, and the desperate question: Is there truly any escape from suffering witnessed by the world?

"An antique brass lock, A key worn with time— An entrance to the past, History’s motion, A journey back, forward, To the present moment."

As I prepared for Joshua's visitation on February 18, 2022, I felt strongly led to search through his writings. These two poems, written nearly seven years earlier, were the ones I stood and read that evening just feet away from his coffin. Though he could not have known it at the time, his words became part of the farewell shared with family and friends.

I am many shades of colors: Olive, white, peach, espresso. I came from faraway lands, across the oceans, Traveling in ships, chained or free. I have lived here for thousands of years; My people came across the Bering Strait before settling... In my flesh, I am stained with flags from many countries. My blood has been poured, and my blood has been cleansed. Who am I, you ask? I am… America’s firstborn, A blend of Spanish, African, French, English, Italian… I am Caribbean.