Where am I from? You ask.

I am from the country

Yes the one down east

Yes the one along the equator,

And yes the one contemporarily smothered in ashes

And drained in blood

Soaked in blood

Lots of blood

But, I am proud to answer

Because for this country

I have a dream

A plan

A dream that this country will stand on its feet and breathe

Not the disturbing smell of soot

Or the salty one of tears,

But in fact the sweet, creamy smell of liberty.

There is potential past the blood and violence

A centimeter past all these horrific aspects

Stands the central source power for it.

The reason that to this day, it’s not extinct.

THE PEOPLE!

While bodies are crashing down beside you,

Ceasing life,

And while around you, it’s raining blood;

So much that you wouldn’t mind an umbrella,

A raincoat and some rain boots,

You still feel safe and loved.

You feel right at home.

Although a cliché,

It’s true!

 

Where am I from? You may ask.

I am from the uneducated country,

The one with 80 million people and counting,

The country that uses solely 7% of its land despite its tremendous population and necessity for shelter,

That country which is never content,

Never satisfied, I tell you from experience.

But, I am proud to answer.

Because for this country

I have a dream

A plan

A dream that soon it will stand on its feet and read.

There is potential past the arrogance and ignorance.

Just one centimeter past this contagious deformity,

Stand the people;

Miraculously smiling.

Surprisingly waving,

Astonishingly hilarious

As of oblivious to the thought, nay reality that their country is literally burning down to ashes.

The peoples’ faces brightened with optimism.

While in this country,

A person screams with agony as his bottle of vodka empties into his conscience, fearing that soon he will be awakened from his little fantasy world of daze and finally be shoved into a reality.

Despite the ignorance,

You feel safe and loved.

In fact, you feel right at home.

Although a cliché, its true!