Dear Martin,

 

When I was younger, I would dream of sleeping

on cotton candy clouds

while the breeze kissed my hair and fulfilled its duty of safekeeping

I was so small yet I felt so strong

even more than Hercules.

One day, there was no more cotton candy and something felt wrong

the clouds darkened with the residue of dissolved sugar falling from the sky.

The breeze no longer danced with me,

it became tight and cold.

In the distance, you could hear the sorrow whispers of pain.

I listened until I could feel the voices asking for help.

They were drowning deep in the thick pool of injustice. How did I get here?

Why can’t I see the clouds anymore?

Why can’t they see the clouds?

The truth is, they were always around me but my head was in the clouds.

My people needed me so as my bones grew stronger,

so did my will.

As my shoes stopped fitting

so did my comfort zone.

As my body grew,

so did my hunger for justice.

There will be no rest nor tranquility until everyone leaves that shallow bottomless pit called injustice.

It is time for me to reach for those in the pool

because now I am mightier than ever.

I am mightier than Hercules

and than anyone who said I couldn’t do it.

I also feel the hands of the warriors of justice

ready to snorkel into the pit with me  in the pursue for rescue.

So let me tell you, Martin, I have a dream too.

 

This poem is about: 
My community

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