Toy soldier,

with all your building blocks,

wandering around your destruction,

all those scary toys in that empty mental box.

Toy soldier,

fighting that.curious battle,

always with your lips moving ,

always speaking such prattle.

Handle him with kid gloves.

Remember his fragile self esteem.

He is a heartbreaker, so many discarded loves.

No rule good enough to hold him down.

No rule good enough for him to obey.

Toy soldier,

burden on his shoulder.

(I would slap you across the face if I was a different man.)

In another time and place you would never be as tough as you think you are.

Such a fine young prince,

such a fine young man,

all ego and bravado,

all puff and no plan,

no one else like you before or since.

Such a fine young prince,

no one like him before or since,

all bravado and big shot plans,

smiling mug for all his adolescent fans.

Every move you make,

every expression you have,

(If I was a different man I would smack them off your face.)

All your motivations and this sincere belief in yiurself.

(He fails to understand it is only a relection.)

T. S. Deary

3/19/21

My best memory is of the girl I sing about in Spanish.

I have not seen her in many years,

I had to leave her behind in Cuba ,

but I carry her in my eyes,

that is why they look so sad,

I sing about her in Spanish because that was how she spoke, in Spanish,

with a beautiful accent.

“That’s life, that’s just how it goes…!”

Down and out,

her memory keeps me company and my song brings her close to me.

I also sing about my past,

about where I came from,

but I never sing about where I am now.

Singing gives me a break from.everything that tries to take what I have left.

(I.Remember with my eyes…)

With my hands I move the songs along in order to feel more alive.

I am more than those eyes,

I am a singer of songs,

a keeper of the past,

my roots are strong,

I am Fernando!

T.S. Deary