More than an Island

No way out, I'm surrounded by sea

My friends from abroad envy me,

They joke and jest, "Hey, do you climb trees?

Swing on vines and live in huts made of leaves"? 

They think life is good, because, of course, I'm on an island!

I'm frustrated, so I write. 

I write my wishes to my friends, so I can show them what they do not see,

Pay no mind to all the strife and corruption, 

all the potcakes, (oh, forgive me), I mean the mutts on the street, 

lacking homes and food, and against other humans they compete. 

I'm frustrated, so I continue to write,

Yes, poverty is real, it reaches the islands. 

We don't swim around all day, yelling to each other, 'Yah mon'! 

Which reminds me, I'm not Jamaican, I'm Bahamian actually, 

That won't stop you from trying to speak patois to me. 

I'm frustrated, so I continue to write,

Am I ungrateful? Are my friends right?

Does being on an island equate to a better life?

But hey, I tell myself, I can't complain too much,

our oceans are the bluest that blue can be,

but one must remember,

There's more to a country that the eye can see. 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country


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