Poems about Immigration

small hours
The piece of paper
So tell me again how a piece of paper makes his tears any less real. Tell me how ink translates to all this blood shed.
Elsa
Clothes of cardboard, Souls of stone Cracked faces with the tears it once shone Walking in the darkness
Alone
She walks alone on A crowded street, with nothing And everything on her mind.
The Migrant
Dark, dusty, desolate night,                                                           
DEMENTIA
Within the first month When I went to school in America
Faiytales
Fairy tales
American Dreamer, Herculean Worker
My grandfather, Roberto Hercules Gándola, has instilled within me the fortitude to take on unfamiliar challenges.
This is Home: Haiti (A “Where I’m from” poem)

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