Dy’nau Brusco

You Were Supposed to Grow Up

For Javits Frimpong

⠀

Fifteen.

Say it without rushing.
Let that number take up the room.

⠀

From Ghana to the Bronx,
you crossed an ocean
with a doctor’s coat somewhere in your tomorrow.

⠀

Imagine it:

“Doctor Frimpong.”

Someone calls.
You turn.

A life needs saving.
And you have grown enough to know how.

⠀

But first—

somebody should have let you be a boy.

A classroom. A friend. A seat without fear.

You should never have had to earn
what kindness gives for free.

⠀

One year in America.

We should be counting your years here,
not the years you will never have.

⠀

Look at this face.

This photograph was supposed to get old.

You were supposed to look back at it
and laugh at how young you were.

⠀

Javits,

one day, someone should have called
“Doctor Frimpong,”
and you should have turned around.

⠀

Tonight, we say your name
and wait for an answer
no fifteen-year-old
should have been taken before he could give.