The Place I Call Home

From the Green, White, Green to the Red, White, Blue,

Since the age of three I was given the chance to see if the American dream was true.

Fleeing from a country with poverty and turmoil,

I was finally able to start a new life on free soil.

This new land was so good to me and my family,

Even with my father leaving and my mother making just enough to put us above the poverty line,

The blessing to call America home made me smile.

But as I got older I unfortunately had to learn a heartbreaking secret,

The place I called home didn't want me here.

As I got older America began to stare,

I couldn't shop or even walk down my own neighborhood without beginning stereotyped.

Is it because of the color of my skin, the hijab I wear on my head, 

Or is it where I was born instead?

I wish I knew the American dream wasn't so lucid,

Nor is it in any way set in stone for it is more fluid.

To the country that has often told me no,

I tell you that I will forever love you so.