Borderlandia the dream

I live in a magical world where a land called borderlandia exists,

where my ancestors slaved away to provide for their familia.

So I could be here today,

I am pieces of my ancestors.

I am the bold dream that they seek,

But please don't turn the other cheek, 

As I speak. 

I know you see me as a kid,

But I am a processor of a new dream,

A dream where kids like me won't have to be taken out of class,

because they speak a second language.

A dream where a little girl can where her chanclas to school with a gleam. 

A dream where a boy will never be judged because who his parents are.

My mother came to America to fight,

she had to fight to not only keep herself alive,

But also sus hermanos y hermanas.

You judge because she cant speak your language,

pero you ate the fruit she picked today,

and cherished the flowers that would leave scars on her hands.

You say you wouldnt discredit me for how i speak and act today,

but please tell me once again everytime I got an answer wrong in class you'd yell out, 

"GO BACK TO MEXICO!" is this okay?

The contra to the thick accents and the racism against my people is whack.

The borderlandia I speak of is the one I live everyday,

The one many kids have to live.

Its sorta like the Berlin Wall, 

Except rooted into our hearts.

There is no such thing as a border its all in our minds,

seprating you and I.

Its the dividing line where you find a crying child,

running down the dusty road trying so hard to reach what everyone else has.

Dont you see?

Or should I say can't you see?

All the misery caused because of the borderline,

between you and I.

I've never been one to walk away,

I have had just enough,

of standing in the face of injustice.

Where even today we say everyone is equal, 

but if you steped a foot in the feild for a day,

you would see many earn less than minimum wage.

Because they are a diffrent race,

Que triste no?

The mexican will do the job cheaper than,

what the white man would as for.

So tell me this borderlandia doesnt exist,

And I will be on my way.

Until I see things being done I won't back away.

Still a lonely Mexican will earn their way,

for a kid like me to one day have the dream.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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