I’m just 15 years old boy, maybe not lucky one because no mom and no dad. No education and no religion, just know how to get money in this crowded city for living today. But I’m a big dreamer. Someday I’ll hold this country with my hand, is it my ambition to be a president? Maybe, But when I see this handful of rice, I’m sad. Because I’m only a dreamer. I don’t know to whom I can ask something, I don’t know to where I can make this dream come true. I never ask, I never pray because I don’t have God…is there God? Who is God? My mind is full with a question.
Take these newspaper from pool then sell it from bus to another bus, I try to get money for eat today. And poor I, sometimes those big men take by force my money. But I don’t cry because I’m a boy.
Leave this bus, my newspaper just sold one; 2000 Rupiah and noon already appear. I sit near this fried snack or people called it gorengan seller. My stomach sound, I’m hungry but have no money. This gorengan looked special in my eyes but the seller look at me hardly. I take this small stone and hold it tight in my hand to bear this hungry. Pain…tears full my eyes when I wish to have mom or dad. But I don’t cry because I’m a boy.
Gorengan seller goes for a while maybe for pee. No people watching, I can’t handle this hungry anymore. I take 3 gorengan and running right the time when gorengan seller come. “Cheater….pencuri…” some people run to catch me. They kick me; I feel pain in my face and body. I give a thousand Rupiah to gorengan seller so they stop to kick me. With another one thousand I walk in this city. How hard this life, but I still have this dream. I told to other people “I want to be president someday, and I’ll give money to all people are like us” and they just looked at me for a while then laugh “I understand why you never get money, because your work is only dreaming” one of them said to me then hat my head.
I walk without sandal in this hot asphalt. “Auch...auch...” sometimes it feels pain.
I open one of the newspaper; I can read, not from school because I don’t know what is that but I learnt by my self. “President open the international school today” I can see president and some happy kids in my age have big smile in that picture. They are rich so they can go to the school. But where I can go to learn? I don’t have mom or dad, I don’t have money, I wish to meet president just want to say I want school…I want to be a president is like him someday. I have intelligence; I’m not a crab brain.
But again I’m only 15 years old boy that only has a dream that maybe too far. I don’t cry although sometimes my eyes fill by tears. I don’t have home; I don’t have family, sometimes sleep near the bus stop or under the bridge. But I study from my hard life, from those people life. From this newspaper I can see the world. I can read about America, German, France or Japan…I know those countries. And I know I’ll go to there someday.
From this bridge I see this city, huge street with allots car that stuck in front of me. My heart says “wait... wait until I prove you that I can handle you someday. Today I only have a thousand but someday I’ll have a billion. I don’t need a help, I’ll do by my self”. I see that huge street tight, I grip my hand tight. I don’t care if today world only see me as a dreamer boy. Because someday I’ll open their eyes when they see my face in those newspaper and they’ll write there “New president open new school for un parent kids”.
(-IeRn-)
Take these newspaper from pool then sell it from bus to another bus, I try to get money for eat today. And poor I, sometimes those big men take by force my money. But I don’t cry because I’m a boy.
Leave this bus, my newspaper just sold one; 2000 Rupiah and noon already appear. I sit near this fried snack or people called it gorengan seller. My stomach sound, I’m hungry but have no money. This gorengan looked special in my eyes but the seller look at me hardly. I take this small stone and hold it tight in my hand to bear this hungry. Pain…tears full my eyes when I wish to have mom or dad. But I don’t cry because I’m a boy.
Gorengan seller goes for a while maybe for pee. No people watching, I can’t handle this hungry anymore. I take 3 gorengan and running right the time when gorengan seller come. “Cheater….pencuri…” some people run to catch me. They kick me; I feel pain in my face and body. I give a thousand Rupiah to gorengan seller so they stop to kick me. With another one thousand I walk in this city. How hard this life, but I still have this dream. I told to other people “I want to be president someday, and I’ll give money to all people are like us” and they just looked at me for a while then laugh “I understand why you never get money, because your work is only dreaming” one of them said to me then hat my head.
I walk without sandal in this hot asphalt. “Auch...auch...” sometimes it feels pain.
I open one of the newspaper; I can read, not from school because I don’t know what is that but I learnt by my self. “President open the international school today” I can see president and some happy kids in my age have big smile in that picture. They are rich so they can go to the school. But where I can go to learn? I don’t have mom or dad, I don’t have money, I wish to meet president just want to say I want school…I want to be a president is like him someday. I have intelligence; I’m not a crab brain.
But again I’m only 15 years old boy that only has a dream that maybe too far. I don’t cry although sometimes my eyes fill by tears. I don’t have home; I don’t have family, sometimes sleep near the bus stop or under the bridge. But I study from my hard life, from those people life. From this newspaper I can see the world. I can read about America, German, France or Japan…I know those countries. And I know I’ll go to there someday.
From this bridge I see this city, huge street with allots car that stuck in front of me. My heart says “wait... wait until I prove you that I can handle you someday. Today I only have a thousand but someday I’ll have a billion. I don’t need a help, I’ll do by my self”. I see that huge street tight, I grip my hand tight. I don’t care if today world only see me as a dreamer boy. Because someday I’ll open their eyes when they see my face in those newspaper and they’ll write there “New president open new school for un parent kids”.
(-IeRn-)
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