Poem by Sandra Ssarmiento

Between activism and poetry

That’s how my days go.
By putting my feelings in pen.
And my voice to the cry of justice.
There’s no overtime.
Not even space to think about it.
No equality.
Guatemala and Latin America shout “no more”.
The Mountain is so high.
Patient’s moving out of hand.
With differences and strangers.
We fight the one who hurts us.
No, we can’t stay in silence.
As long as we breached the breach.
Of hunger and necessity.
The anguish in oblivion and loneliness.
A scream in unison.
A crowd of voices.
A single color in the blood.
Latin brothers who don’t know each other.
Call the inalienable right.
Call the mothers crying.
The deaths are screaming in the graves.
Justice in peace we want to rest.
If only equality and inclusion would unite.
Like the voice of the people in their help.
If they had food at the tables.
And quiet kids in the cribs.
Shout out to all lung for the homeless.
Shout Latin, for your right.
Which has been banned.
For the rest of your dreams.
For today, I yearn for longing.
Of a better future.
Let’s go to the front, in the steel lines.