More Stories

Thursday, December 2, 2021

And Stabbed This Heart.

by


 

There are no witches nor dragons in our fairytale.

Just humans facing themselves in a mirror.

Looking for the key that unlocked what they need and want.


A towel, as big as a mountain, 

Was waiting and laughing at me.

I surrendered to the call of my knife 


When I stopped hearing his voice I could hear mine 

like it was the first time, and then I reached the top.

I'm done with what they want me to be or to use.

My glasses slipper, they shined like gold. I broke them

because they hurt me and they wouldn't let my walk 

or continue on my way.

Finding love is like trying to catch lighting. 

She did it and locked it in a bottle 

that she later used to poison me and drain me 

until I didn't have a single part of the body that felt alive.

By Natalia Sanabria, Step 9 Blue


Teenage Days

by

 



Pretty dark days, lead to calm nights

The louder voices go, the further I wanna go

Where is the button to mute?

My soul and my negativity dispute over me.


Turn the music on.

Silence the outer crowd!

Appeared in a new town

Seems that I’m part of this song.

The melody spoke slowly

Taking my sadness to a night out.

As the volume went down,

The sweetness of the song and the bitterness of myself fought for control.

He’s a light burning low, just like me

I give this weaker light all my strength.

This light has been my happiness and strength

but also the wind that turned my light off.

With a last effort, I departed through some paths

and say bye to the light that kept me alive.

I hold my memories tight.

I’ll see you again, I told him… this was our goodbye.


By Justine Sierra, Step 9 Blue


Wednesday, December 1, 2021

Football, My Passion

by


 

Soccer is something nice,

you can play it anytime, 

I always play it twice,

no matter the time.


If I score a goal,

is like never getting old,

this sport is something amazing,

when you kick that ball.

Playing with my friends,

and looking how it ends,

having fun,

remember that to play you gotta run, 

to touch the running ball

Confusing soccer with football,

always making that mistake,

football has to be the real name,

and everything better is going to be made.

To conclude this poem,

I'll tell you to play soccer,

but a little,

or soccer is going to end always in the middle.


By Alfonso Isaza M. Step 9 Blue