Stories and News No. 828
Dear Danish Government,
I heard that you're starting to use the right to seize our goods in order to cover the costs.
I did not really want to talk about rights.
Especially mine.
Maybe because I have forgotten what they are.
Or, perhaps, because that is the best thing I remember.
That's why I won’t complain.
I will not raise my voice to put at risk every single moment that still awaits me.
I will not oppose the umpteenth abuse.
Because living another day and go on like this until there will be road is the true paradise.
Hell is only one form of the latter you will give us, despite we already know how it is done.
For this reason I'm here, now.
Confiscate, confiscate as well, but you will not find any money because my parents used it to buy time for me. All you can roll out ahead like a red carpet, even if blood colored.
You won’t discovery any jewel of any value, in my mother’s case, because she exchanged it for an always open window in my heart, where I will never lose sight of the lovable memories.
You won’t detect anything, alas, you could define valuable.
If not, you really believe that I would be here today?
Anyway, with a little stretch of imagination, rather a lot, and a reduction of apathy, in fact so much, I ask you to listen to what I offer.
Confiscate, confiscate even my right index finger, the one I used one day to bet the horizon far away from death.
Namely, you.
Take it, maybe you'll have better luck than me.
Don’t be shy, confiscate without fear my eyelids. Protected by them I built impossible alternatives as never perfect places, only slightly more bearable than the road to reach them. I know I can afford without, now, because daydreaming became the only human way to see.
Confiscate my left knee, but do it soon, though, now that I'm in a good mood. Because when I am sad I often find myself thinking about the day I hurt it, playing with my father. When my father was there.
Confiscate, confiscate without hesitation, which is just another way to tell a theft.
And, if you need it right, confiscate every centimeter of my skin, so that from the moment you have finished your work I will walk among you as the most naked of the living creatures.
I wonder if observing with an equally bare eye a vibrant heart, a pair of lungs in the grip of breath and a river of blood running from north to south of a stubborn life you finally will see what I offer.
And what you really seized…
Read more stories of migrants
Buy my latest book, The hoax of the migrants
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News:
Dear Danish Government,
I heard that you're starting to use the right to seize our goods in order to cover the costs.
I did not really want to talk about rights.
Especially mine.
Maybe because I have forgotten what they are.
Or, perhaps, because that is the best thing I remember.
That's why I won’t complain.
I will not raise my voice to put at risk every single moment that still awaits me.
I will not oppose the umpteenth abuse.
Because living another day and go on like this until there will be road is the true paradise.
Hell is only one form of the latter you will give us, despite we already know how it is done.
For this reason I'm here, now.
Confiscate, confiscate as well, but you will not find any money because my parents used it to buy time for me. All you can roll out ahead like a red carpet, even if blood colored.
You won’t discovery any jewel of any value, in my mother’s case, because she exchanged it for an always open window in my heart, where I will never lose sight of the lovable memories.
You won’t detect anything, alas, you could define valuable.
If not, you really believe that I would be here today?
Anyway, with a little stretch of imagination, rather a lot, and a reduction of apathy, in fact so much, I ask you to listen to what I offer.
Confiscate, confiscate even my right index finger, the one I used one day to bet the horizon far away from death.
Namely, you.
Take it, maybe you'll have better luck than me.
Don’t be shy, confiscate without fear my eyelids. Protected by them I built impossible alternatives as never perfect places, only slightly more bearable than the road to reach them. I know I can afford without, now, because daydreaming became the only human way to see.
Confiscate my left knee, but do it soon, though, now that I'm in a good mood. Because when I am sad I often find myself thinking about the day I hurt it, playing with my father. When my father was there.
Confiscate, confiscate without hesitation, which is just another way to tell a theft.
And, if you need it right, confiscate every centimeter of my skin, so that from the moment you have finished your work I will walk among you as the most naked of the living creatures.
I wonder if observing with an equally bare eye a vibrant heart, a pair of lungs in the grip of breath and a river of blood running from north to south of a stubborn life you finally will see what I offer.
And what you really seized…
Read more stories of migrants
Buy my latest book, The hoax of the migrants
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News: