Poem N°2

Are nights to cry

face the grief and let go

the fear that has silenced us.

Now

scream louder,

not abandon us

and on the street give it all

That will be the memory when all this ends

that we become one

and at the same time in thousands.

finally, the sky and the sea make sense

we look each other directly in the eye, and we touch our hands

watery eyes of so much repression

hands severed from so much struggle.

We will kick as many stones as necessary

so that it stops being our future

we are the ones whose tail is cut off at birth

the facade over the pain

poor with a pompous name.

Boys and girls with wings

next to that horizon dyed red

that has a sign nailed to it that says:

You can't fly here.

Or

Boys and girls with wings

And that horizon dyed red where it was said that they could fly.