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,
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
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.