Poems about Immigration
No, I did not expect to die A one-shot blow to the head A loaded gun cocked right at me I lay in bloody streets of hate Foreshadowing the
They say I look foreign.
They say I don’t belong.
So where is home?
The place I have grown to know.
How do people expect
Someone new to this place,
To learn the language
Without putting sounds to a face.
Gimme a Pix o'
PIZZA
I want a Pix o'
PIZZA
Hungry for a
PIZZA
Waiting for a
PIZZA
I will not be silenced.
As a hispanic male I'm expected to be quiet to you officer,
Algo está pasando
Que hemos visto antes.
La gente está temblando
Tienes que poner tus guantes
How many? How many kids need to be buried?
How many voices do you need to hear to do something?