Alien

Margaret V.Doran

I have given up my soul
and become a mercenary:
a despised pirate.
My family does not know.
They think I am a successful businessman
like everyone in the U.S.A.

But I am here without a green card:
an alien in a foreign land;
a man who does not exist
except to send money home
to help my family
have a life worth living.

When I came I had a choice:
I could sell my soul to a contractor
and not have enough money to eat
or sell my soul to the pipeline
and send hundreds to my family
and sharpen my knife.

So I sold my soul
and I bought the clothes
and I bought the gold.
I bought a gun;
I acquired the "friends;"
I acquired the Enemies.

I learned the language;
I learned the walk
and the sneering look
and the attitude.
I learned it all
to stay alive

on the wrong side of society;
an the wrong side of the law;
on the flip side of right.
A hated man
destroying the lives of others.
Alive in hell.

And I know every minute of every day
that this life will kill me
and they will ship my body
back to my family
who will grieve
and remember me

as the simple, clever boy
with bare feet and an easy smile;
a shock of black hair over a handsome face;
who sent money home.
And they will always believe
that I was a faithful son . . . and good.

Copyright © 1997 Margaret V. Doran. All rights reserved.

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Updated July 1, 1999
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