Utter Disbelief

As they flow down, there is no stopping them.
Like roaring rivers, they flow and devour everything in their path
Washing away the sorrow and lifting up my soul, but it is no use, all hope is lost
Drowning, I look down and see the empty vessel staring back at me,
All hallow and brittle and in utter disbelief
Wondering frantically, could this really be me?

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Réquiem of Love

In the darkest depths of my soul,
Lies a memory I withhold.
There’s a child with a story untold.
Unimpassioned lover,
Unfaithful truth.
Lies! Beneath a stolen youth.
Withering flower,
Now stolen time,
Holds no place.
A ghastly crime,
Ghostly memories,
Revealed in rhyme.
Steadfast lover,
Enlighten the soul.
Come to me, renew, and console.
Knightly gallant,
The essence of chivalry,
Come forth and set me free.
Vanquish darkness from my memory.

Writer or Teacher

It’s been five years since I graduated from college, five years since I told myself I would become a writer. Five years since I said I would never become a teacher and five years that I have done nothing except teach. We tell our children to dream big and do anything and everything they can to make sure that their dreams come true, but when is it going to be the time we heed our advice? Five more years, ten, fifty?
Today’s going to be the day that, for the 1st time, I actually listen to myself, today is the 1st day that I try myself as a writer and today’s the day that I do not give up on my dreams.
Every couple of months, I tell myself that this is the day I will do it! The day I finally put pen to paper, I’m going to let my ideas flow and finish my book, which I’ve been working on for ten years. For ten years, I have been writing a story about two sisters that lost their parents. For ten years, I have sat down in front of the computer, watching the little blinking line in front of me. For ten years have been frustrated because I do not know how to make my dreams possible. I do not know if I am good enough, and that fear controls me constantly.
Is it not hypocritical that I stand in front of what could be over 500 students by now, telling them not to let fear control them? However, that is precisely what I do. How can I have the face to stand in front of them and tell them that they can do anything but not do anything I can for myself and my dreams? This is the question I ask myself every day.
Work should be something that you love, well really it is something that makes you happy. And for the past five years, I have woken up frustrated. I think I’m getting grey hairs because of all the crap teachers have to go through, all the crap that’s never said. People like to joke, but they do not have the slightest idea of everything teachers have to do to ensure that these kids turn out OK. When will it be enough? I look at this generation, and it makes me sad. No, it makes me scared that the people growing up today have…and it’s not to be mean. Still, they have the attention span of a goldfish because you can tell them not to do one thing now, and 3 seconds later, they are doing the same thing over again. They do not listen. And if we have a generation that does not listen to and ignores us, how will we progress in the future or move forward?
As a teacher, you only see maybe a handful of students that you say, “damn, this kid’s gonna make it.” I teach 160 students every year, and out of 160, only a handful are the ones who make me think they will make it.
I am more of a babysitter than a teacher. No, I’m wrong because a babysitter makes $10 minimum per child. A teacher in Puerto Rico makes $8 per class daily while we’re teaching 25 to 35 kids all at once! I know I have to go home and continue working for free that’s not that I’m ungrateful for the job that I have now because I am not. At least I have a job right now, but that does not take away from the frustrations that people go through, it does not take away from the day-to-day having to make plans or exams and continue on every day, pencil to paper, pencil to paper, not doing what I love, and truth be told I’m exhausted, tired, and frustrated.
The life of a teacher is not easy, but as I said, I am struggling because for years, I’ve wanted to be a writer, but for the past few years, I have said I am a teacher. So ask me; what am I, a teacher or a writer? Either way, I am struggling.