Eyes

Eyes.
Accusatory eyes.
Staring blankly at me
Over their mother's back.

Hands.
Hands that applaud me
Simply for coming,
For noticing them.

Mouths.
Laughing mouths.
Finding pleasure in juvenile humor
That gives them a glimpse of the childhood they never had.

Lips.
Lips that struggle to form
Words in the language
That is so different from their native tongue.

Eyebrows.
Raised eyebrows.
When I tell them I'm from Colorado.
They ask "Colorado Street?"
No, I tell them, Colorado is a state.

Papers.
Papers signed throughout history
By white men in white houses.
Calling them aliens, illegals.
Telling them to get out,
Go back to where they came from,
In the impersonal language
Of legal documents.

A man with a loud voice
A voice that spreads hate.
Speaking of walls,
Of ways to separate us
From the aliens.
As if they want to steal our brains,
Not simply live in our country

This poem is about: 
My country

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741