Poems about Immigration

He tells me I'm lucky to live here That we’re safe and welcomed by everyone here
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.
i’m exhausted of the numerous times i had to direct your mouth to utter my name
Gimme a Pix o' PIZZA I want a Pix o' PIZZA Hungry for a PIZZA Waiting for a PIZZA
You insist this is America
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?