sábado, 24 de fevereiro de 2018

Poema de uma aluna


They say you are unique
But they define you like labels
Through letters and numbers,
They fit you in a piece of paper.

My weight, my age, my height
I see them being pointed down.
Like I am a machine with no feelings,
With a programmation you can mess around.

How are my grades supposed to represent me?
And not what I believe in?
Why am I not seen
According to the books I read or the words I speak?

How are numbers supposed to say who I am?
How much I´m hurt, how often I smile.
You can´t mesure my soul image relation
Nor count the tears I´ve cried.

I don´t want to hide
And pretend to be something I´m not.
I want to remember my greatest memories,
Because the rest of them I already forgot.

I want to be myself
With no one pointing at me their finger.
I am sick of trying to please people
Who think a person with personality is a sinner.

I don´t wanna live like this anymore,
As if I´m awake, but in consistent slumbers
I´m tired of living in a society,

That only works with numbers.

Eva Ribeiro

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