Maria Fernandez-Garcia Poet Narrative

September

1988 it was the year,
September was the month. 
A story begins to be written. 
Which bus should we take? 

It doesn't matter, the one takes us to freedom. 
We took the first one, 
three hours to somewhere we didn't know. 
We arrived with some clothes and little money, 
we found somewhere to stay for a while, 
No money was reaching our dreams. 
We begged in the streets for nothing but working for peanauts. 
We wanted to stand up for ourselves, we wanted to be free. 
We met the sea, far from us before, we met a temple. 
We begged for food, we were starving. 
Some people gave us the chance to get money, but we refused. 
Somebody offered us to work on t.v. but we refused, we didn't know who to trust or not. 
We slept on a dreaming pillow in the street, but we were young, free and two friends. 

We knew that in spite of having nothing we would survive. 
We have been on the edge. Walking on a rope. 
 We robbed some food for eating, because we were starving. 
We used to stand in front of the sea to get energy. 
Life changed when our family decided to help us. 
After cutting a cheese with a thread, and having all the food that somebody with no name, used to give to us, we survived. 
September, 2026
This is one of us, the other one, I dont wan't to give her name. 
But the first one, it's me, the one I always remember about who I was.
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