Picture a fast moving train Now this train isn't necessarily made for human transport Yet imagine me on top of it Not at age seventeen but at age five On top of my father’s shoulders Going at 100 MPH, moves five year old me Some have fallen to their deaths, while others have fallen and lost limbs Their arms, legs, and bodies are scattered all through the tracks, Yet the train is moving and I on top of my father's shoulders Continue to move at 100 mph The sun has fallen, Yet the train is still moving Leaving Honduras, my homeland, miles and miles behind The land I once deemed so beautiful While ahead five year old me doesn't know what awaits, Yet the train is still moving I’m resting by the side of my father On a life less wagon Holding on to me with full grip My dad and I continue our journey along the bones the heads, the toes, the arms and legs of those who had fallen short On their journey to a new home It’s morning time and we had arrived Not to our destination but to a stop Where a few locals have gathered some foods and essential for the migrants of this train Leaving me on top of the resting train My father like a stray cat fends to get the food the locals are planning to give away As if he had never left, he returns And we feast on what had only been agua and bread The trains moves again and so does five year old me on top of my father’s shoulders Once again Five year old me moves along the tracks which have buried the stories and dreams of many The tracks with the heads, toes, legs and arms of those who have fallen short Again we come to a stop, but this time not for food My father claims that my mother awaits at a bus terminal Eager five year old me is excited to reunite with the mother I had never seen Once on the bus, a woman with a baby in hand Reaches out to me with one of those Colgate smilies So bright and blinding was the smile of my mother Who hugged and kissed my cheeks as if I was going to be taken away No more train Yet there were bodies Because the trail with the heads and toes Arms and legs was far from ending Broken dreams and aspirations was now the road where the bus would travel Unsure of how things really work I recall being on top of my father’s shoulders again And being thrown over some wire wall While on the other side people and cars starred, as I stared back My little brother followed, so did my mother and father Over the fence we had gone Until the border patrol arrived Asking if we had permission to go, Or if we knew where to go Again I didn't know I was unsure, Yet we had overcome the road and train tracks with the bodies, heads, toes, legs, and arms Broken dreams and aspirations of those before us For they were now far gone As we walked on to the land we would call home New to this lands And its streets paved of gold We planned to live and fulfill our dreams To become what those who had fallen short couldn't be To have dreams and aspirations that are unlimited Together hand in hand We walk on to a land with hopes and promises To make new tracks and roads for ourselves Note from author: The poem above describes my journey, in other words how I arrived to the United States with my parents. I chose to share it here because it's important that stories like my own are told. Valentina Flores- College Freshman (Bard College)
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