When I was in 11th grade, I had to read a book for my literature class. And after reading the book, the teacher asked the class to do a book report project. We could either choose to make an art about the theme of the book we read, or wrtite a short story or an essay, or whatever creative thing that it occured to us. I went to picked up a book in my school’s library, and I came across “The Secret Garden” book by Frances Hodgson Brunette, the librarian told me it was a beautiful book and that I should definetely read it. The book was a children’s book, yet, I must have being 17 or 18, and I still loved it very much. It was easy to read, and at the same time, abundantly magical. I remember I was reading the book during lunch time, and a senior student came to me and commentted that the book was really good, but it was for babies. Anyway, after I finished the book, I wonder what kind of project would be good to do, and I thought why not a poem. So, here’s the poem, that I wrote by the inspiration of a beautiful book I read in eleven grade.
Send me a sign
Telling me to die
Not to die
What’s the matter
I don’t know my purpose
Everyone seems theirs
Why can’t i too?
I rather be sad
Than not having dreams
Ya se que estas enojada conmigo,
Porque te cuento mi vida
En tiras cortas y mentiras incluidas.
Tal vez es porque no confío en ti.
Me tiras mis problemas, sabiendo no
Que me duele hasta el alma.
“Cobarde” me dices a mí.
“Se fuerte” me demandas a mí.
Me destrozan tus palabras,
Al igual que tú actitud.
Me dices que miento,
¿Por qué no entiendes que es tu actitud?
Tu no te mereces mi amistad, ni mi verdad.
Y recuerda que no perderé mi
Inocencia ni humanidad.
Esto es lo que me hace yo.
Esta soy yo.
Si lo pierdo no tengo nada,
Solo una alma vacía.
Ya se que me vez como una bola de basura,
Pero te veo a ti,
Y tu eres igual.
If I had to give up either one of my patriotism,
I would rather have none.
If I have to sacrifice my humanity for both,
I would rather not.
My innocence is all I have,
Don’t take it away from me.
This is who I am,
This is who I want to be.
Don’t make me a machine,
Or I would die in vain, indeed.
August is gone September comes.
Oh, September the month of misfortune.
Beware! Cause the Curse of September is here.
See the skies, and the summer’s skies are gone,
Heavy rain comes. Continue reading