My words brother try to cheat by covering his eyes like a IRS auditing vulture try to covers his in front of a hopeful.
He forgot that man is like a meccano made of many little pieces, sounds and colors; eyes are just a part of a face screaming at you what the wearer is.
You can cover your eyes brother, but we can see beyond the smoked glass...

Dedicated to NYPO William Bonilla (a.k.a. D'Artagnan)



As a rookie he got his first big lump in the head
in an ally which he went without showing fear
because someone had called for help from there,
to Serve and Protect his life would then so wear.

The man trying to hide behind the glasses,
think that if we can’t see the eyes
we are supposed to think they aren’t there,
looking at us, wondering, and agonizing
if we are friend or foe after seeing so much
in a day to last for us a painful lifetime.
Those now arthritic knuckles, called on doors,
heard the steps coming to answer the chime,
which face he should have when they open
the door, to a stranger coming on nighttime,
to tell a mother that there was an accident
and regrettably her little boy lost his life?
the mother’s burst of tears was then reflected
by his own in that young police maturing eyes
which needed to be covered as time passed
as witnessing so much pain they want to hide.
But we see the face, a peaceful demeanor,
the wrinkles left by thousands of his smiles,
his beat is not the same without those echoes
on the summer nights or winter eerie whites;
you don’t need to count lump, scars or dents,
to know that in front of you is an honest one,
that when you are on your knees needing help
he will be there for you because he’s the Man.
Those dark eyeglasses cannot hide who he is,
the man in blue that always protect your line,
if you treat him well and become a friend, he
maybe will let you to address him as…William.

As a veteran he saw his hair going gray and fall,
the lumps where there but so was the smile,
because tattooed on his soul to Protect and Serve
this Police Officer without fear committed his life.