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I am an Armenian I am from a country so small, people ask, "Where's that?" when I say its name I am from a race of people who have existed for 4,000 years,
Do we not bleed too, or are we the only ones to blame for spilt blood? Are we not a land of many peoples and pasts, minorities and majorities, harmonious and chaotic?
Waking up in a room, With not even a pair of shoes. They stripped me down, Took me from my town, And here I awaited my doom. This dream that haunted me often
Difficult to decide which is my home, America, the land where I was born? Or is it where my ancestors are from? Between these different worlds I remain torn, I live and learn here in the USA