Poems about Immigration

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
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,
It Seems That MISINFORMATION’s Emanating From Stations... From Food To Education To This Corona Situation... !!!
It started with a box. Left in that parking lot.
I think he knows I’m alive, having come down The three steps of the back porch
The shirtless man by the ticket counter  has already broken the gloom here, his crowd