For years it stood firmly,

A relic of fights past.
Sulking in the water,
It was determined to last.

Cuba had big, bad, bombs
That scared us so badly!
A gift from the Soviets,
We embargoed them madly!

The fire had been lit
And all they could do was to
Wait!
Wait!
Wait!
And Castro did not like it
Not one little bit.

But fifty years later
There’s hope all a-growing
Obama smiles wide
As trade starts a-flowing!

Well not quite yet, sadly
Because now we must wait
For those big politicians
To clear their plate.

Cuba’s old-timey cars,
And their old-timey ways,
Will get American love,
To make up for lost days.

And I sit here and think
And I think with a sigh,
“Of all times to be friends
What makes now special? Why?”

Will Cuba become
A smaller US?
Will they really be free?
One can only just guess.

Will they get fancy cars?
Will they get brand-new clothes?
Will they get US customs?
It seems God only knows.

Will they become a state?
Become ol’ fifty one?
Or will they stay free,
To lay under the sun?

Will they be our allies?
Or maybe our foes?
Will they welcome us in?
Or keep everything closed?

These thoughts swirl around
In my thought addled brain
Getting all clogged up
Like a street with one lane.

So I guess the best choice
Is to sit here and wait
To see what will happen
When they open their gate.

In time we will learn
‘Cus our friendship’s still crude
But what I wanna’ know
Is will they have fast food?