Like you I believe that I am different
Only to realize that my story of escaping
Persecution, gunshots, and organized militia killings
Has been retold many times before
Bosnia, Somalia, Russia, and Sudan
The name of the country continues to change
But the story remains the same.
Like you I believed arriving in America
Was an end to my nightmare,
The blood splatter would begin to dissipate
I would close my eyes and get some shut eye for the night
Thinking that the American Dream had finally been achieved
Living the life of a rock star is all I ever wanted
Yet, America is nothing but a dream.
All these opportunities to better yourself
In agreement with the fine print.
If I was a mapmaker, under the words,
“North America,” in tiny script I would mention,
“Side effects may include assimilation of American
Culture, loss of home-culture, racism, consumerism,
Credit card debt and a better life-style in jail.”
Like you, I am ignorant but unlike you I am caught
In never-ending cycles of examination and awareness
Thinking thoughts of wisdom, truth, and knowledge
Yet I speak as if I was a jaded cynic
Welcome to America.
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