He gets off work at midnight, takes the F train back uptown
He shakes off all the daily slights and times he’s been put down
He rides for hours back and forth, carves lines with an old pen
And when he’s done the windows of that train will say again
I was here; I mattered
What I’ve done has left a mark
When I’m gone, they’ll notice
A beacon in the dark
Although I walk in shadows now I will not disappear
I was here, I was here
She spends the evening serving coffee; every night’s the same
The customers leave tips in pennies; no one knows her name
She thinks up rhymes throughout her shift and writes them down at home
She greets the morning on the corner, handing out her poems
I was here; I mattered
What I’ve done has left a mark
When I’m gone, they’ll notice
A beacon in the dark
Although I walk in shadows now I will not disappear
I was here, I was here
A subway sign with every other letter scribbled out
Late night rhythmic lyrics punctuated with a shout
Impossibly high billboards that bear ten spray-painted names
A handprint placed in fresh cement; all serve to make one claim
I was here; I mattered
What I’ve done has left a mark
When I’m gone, they’ll notice
A beacon in the dark
Although I walk in shadows now I will not disappear
I was here, I was here
I was here, I was here
© Beth DeSombre 2012
