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Sara Kruzan

A couple of years ago, I read or heard about 3 young people, Tommy, Alyssa Gomez, and Sara Kruzan, whose stories inspired me. I could hear the sad harmonies of poetry in my mind as I learned about them and knew I had to write about them. I heard about Tommy from someone I knew who was buying crack off the boy. I watched a story about the poetess, Alyssa Gomez a.k.a. Raven, on a 20/20 special called “Sunset Blvd.” I read about Sara Kruzan in a newspaper article about juveniles who receive life without parole and life sentences. Since then, Kruzan’s sentence has been reduced twice and she was granted parole in June of this year. Hopefully, she will actually be released soon. She went into prison at 17 and is 34 now. I have posted the poems “Tommy” and “Raven” previously. Here’s “Sara Kruzan:”

FREE SARA KRUZASara Kruzan
by Sean Michael

Only 16 when you shot and killed a man,
trying to take back all that was purloined from you.
How did it come to this? Was that your thought in those
moments of scrutinizing your hand before the cards fell and
your finger cinched around the trigger?
Is it possible to erase the past with the fury of a screaming bullet?
But I know that there is more to the story of Sara Kruzan than
that of a girl who murdered…

At the tender age of 11,
you just wanted to eat ice cream and roller skate–
I can’t help but wonder: where were your mother and father
when George Gilbert Howard offered you a ride in his Cadillac?
And who was this man?
A neighbor, a stranger, a family friend?
Along the way his wanton hands trespassed against your
innocent flesh.
Did he profess his love for you,
Give you the attention, at home, you never received?
With your double scoop of ice cream he served you lies,
and blamelessly, you believed.
You were only a child, then a teen;
Sara,
When did you unlearn the carefree songs you used to sing,
the games you used to play,
how to smile?

Only 13 when he coerced you into prostitution,
So you worked the hard streets as they pilfered your childhood.
But something was growing inside of you,
Something you could not explain:
The fear you hid is there now at the forefront,
The fiery anger white-hot,
The panic ice-cold.
That’s when you shot him.

Sara,
What were your hopes and dreams, and will you ever believe in them again?
Please tell me and anybody with an ear to listen.
I can’t help but wonder. Where was anybody these last five
harrowing years?
And the system…
What the hell were they thinking when they handed you
LIFE WITHOUT PAROLE?!
Didn’t they know…
You were already serving a sentence.

 

Posted at  dVerse Poets, Open Link Night #120

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