Poems about Immigration

Dance, I don't like this chance, They play with no balance.
In this land Arrival is not the problem: It's the survival. In their hotels Servers outnumber the served
Growing up I was taught I a
  In a day, a week, a month, a year wounds doze, they sleep they disappear, but this wound is
Walking at dawn through the city without a recent map seems strange.
Prestera. men varför? - Makulera. men vad då? för att etablera mig, nya versionen som ändå klänger och sträcker sitt håll på minnes handt
This is a new Jim Crow era, a new ugly system of Apartheid Is going on in America, a crime that we're unwilling to hide.
Purpose of life By: Alondra Martinez-V   The Instructor said,
The Tower lies in rapturous silence, The Margalite Palace ready themselves for wrath and ruin,