The Promise
there was never a dream for me
THE PROMISE

There’s no room In the ashtray As I smoke my last cigarette Banishing thoughts of the inevitable With a final jolt of nicotine. I check my soul Making sure it is still there Swearing on my father’s grave Biting the head off of destiny Only to spit it out. I am the dream child of immigrants Tailored for success in the New World Overcoming poverty and filth To shine like the great lady, Liberty. I lift my skirt as a sign of freedom Baring my breasts Wearing the flag of my gender I toss back my fiery red hair. I draw a cross with the ashes Commemorating the crucifixion Smearing them on my forehead Like a penitent. Still a stranger The promise becomes female My ancestors’ word is broken There was never a dream for me. © 2026 Stephanie M. Vargo


Love this passionate declaration, Stephanie!
This rocks, love it.