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CUBANOS

Held back from most things
But not from hope
Heads held high
Just trying to cope
Restrictions outnumber
The liberties they're shown
And the material they hold
They don't even own
Stripped of their freedom
And left without choice
Being spoken for
By one militant voice
Much more the amazement
That these people still smile
As they sweep their clean streets
And receive their bread single file
Their rations of food
Far from sufficient
Forced to use dollars
Which are for most nonexistent
The country makes money
And one man hordes it
Simple pleasures sit taunting
As so few can afford it
Though never kinder nor gentler
People I've met
The wholeness of greed
Hasn't swallowed them yet
With open arms they welcome all races
To eat in their homes
To take us new places
The charm of these people
Is offered with grace
So honest and polite
They share a unified space
A unique style of music
And the dance to match it
Their energy's contagious
It's hard not to catch it
I hope for these people
That they'll get what they pray for
And that the welcome mat's never taken
From the foot of each door

tb

(Feb. 9 ‘02-HornBlower Too, Baracoa - Vita)