It is not the Land of the Free

but the Land of Opportunity.

Our Speech, unhinged, becomes our Pride

And we leave no problems to hide.

We praise the Phoenix and the Lotus

That lie amongst the Land

But neglect those in the middle,

I cannot understand.

As an individual of the youth, this is my plight.

Another part of My identity:

My name, My skin, My hair

Is part of a culture like the wind

Unnoticed yet everywhere,

We stay.

Supressing the Oppression with MUMBLES

To Survive another day.

(Why is it when we finally yell they feel bad and walk away?)

One side telling me to stay,

The other telling me to leave.

Each anxiously anticipating on the next word

I breathe.

As a Hispanic

As a Latino

As a Chicano

This is my plight.

I, and We, still Fight.

So come what may.

I would go back to my country

but there's a wall in the way.