When I was younger I Dreamed. I dreamed to be bigger, older, stronger. I dreamed to not be so poor anymore. I dreamed to not struggle again. I dreamed of being Spiderman, Superman, or any superhero that was strong enough to save lives and standup to the bullies on my street.
When I was younger I dreamed of no more tears. I dreamed too never be hungry—I wanted to eat anytime I wanted to eat, and any food I felt like eating. I dreamed of a better job for my Dad so that my mother would stay home instead of work. I dreamed of better days than those hard painful ghetto days.
I dreamed of hitting a baseball out of Chavez Ravine. I dreamed of Dodger Blue and a shinny new white uniform with my name on it. I dreamed of Sugar-Ray Leonard…and one day knocking him out. I dreamed of being the next great champ.
I dreamed…and these dreams were deferred. I’m who I am now…wondering, Is it too late for me to still dream. There’s no time for dreams. There’s no time for sleep. All I do now is live. And now when I look out at the crowd of students I wonder what dreams they will leave behind and why…and if they knew what I know…would they cry too?