Nepal

Running down the road that has broken many dreams

Fear of the unknown yet moving around like Nomads

Tears running down my cheeks like a water in a stream

Kissing my grandmother and hugging my old man

O the bus on the broken road near the steep hill

The smell of leather inside the bus sickens me

The dry taste of pea and the wind near the mill

And the weird touch of the skin of fried pea

The sounds of the child-labor and street hawkers

And the scenic view of the mountain behind the hill

The refreshing taste of the fresh and cold water

And the dreams to be rich that I must fulfill

O’ I must leave behind my homeland

To achieve my ambitions in a place called the dream land

America here I come with all my hopes and dreams in my hand

In hopes my memory of Nepal doesn’t turn into the sieve and the sand