'immigration'

Learn more about other poetry terms

Prestera. men varför? - Makulera. men vad då? för att etablera mig, nya versionen som ändå klänger och sträcker sitt håll på minnes handtag för att ju en dag skulle jag säga att detta allt var värt att kämpa för livet vilkets meriter har blivit mi
in the midst of it of disease and sickness i struggle struggle to pull myself out of bed start the
I want to go back in time when I used to be free from cares and Mother would hold me close.   I remember when we came to that brand new world, America,  that sang of hope and freedom.  
  Seeking completeness I've come so far. Although, it has robbed myself out of me. But here, I have crossed what seemed, a bridge too far.   
​Traces of flickering light glimpsing over lightless faces lost in the lands they shall call home. Faces, therein lostness, close but not close enough, alone together under an unfamiliar sun, sinking and sinking.
Why so scared little girl? Is it the tinfoil wrapped around your bones? My footsteps shaking your floor? Life leaving your neighbor's eyes? Being torn from the soil
Your home is silent, full of peace. Just you and your thoughts. Just you. As you open the door, there are so many things going on. Screaming. Crying. Forest fires.
Taco Bell, tacos are swell, but nothing but white culture American racism closing all chains And we complain for immigrant vultures
My body is tense, my muscles feel like cold steel, I feel a knot in my throat, I can feel my heart rate rapidly increasing as I look at the eligibility requirements; I am in the top of my class, my GPA and personal achievements qualify m
If you live somewhere where you can't get ready cooked animal feetthere's no helping you!Not even chicken feet?Not even a potluck, at your chosen place of worship?I'd have said not even pig's feet
Subscribe to 'immigration'