On Mango Street, I dream to find myself
My house will have much love and respect
No one will tell me what and how I have to be
I will carry, I will always carry my past with me But I will never forget how weak they made me feel
Behind the door, I hide waisting my whole life
At night, I wait for a charming prince to take me away
My eyes pretend meanwhile I stay here and pray
The street whispers: “This is the right time to escape"
Freedom feels like something fake
We are the ones who are trapped in this reality
Our mothers say: "Fit into society!"
The windows watch this cruelty in silence
The sky above Mango Street has become our audience
One day, this street will remember us as survivors.
