poverty
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But not of desperation instead it’s a fight to believe in the American dream that I was raised with. Physicians are in the position to make life or death decisions or if they even want to listen to your symptoms. we are all sick with chronic limiting beliefs pained with bills and bills and bills…
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The struggle is real but I refuse to accept that fates are sealed. when reality is harsh it becomes surreal. Violence and poverty are steel like chains causing inequality to remain. Shootings on street corners believed to be the hood’s epidemic but history proves it’s a repetitive pandemic. Death left to rot in the streets…
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Living the cement American dream millions chasing the kite’s Blue, red, white Tail Only to meet Blood sweat tears Harsh reality. Parenting in shifts Breeding soldiers of struggle Papi couldn’t learn English quickly Factory life Gasoline worker At night Smell embedded In his hands Ser buen pobres is what he taught me, in another life…
Yesenia Guerra 