The Lands That I Call Home

June 18, 2009
By
More by this author
The lands that I call home,
are split by a string of crossings
and stern suited patrol.
Why are people catagorized?
by the lands in which they are confined.
Individuals adopt their neighbors sway and style of talk
but do they mature so greatly
that no longer are they from the same stock?
Every single person derives from the same place that we all call the earth.
Yet rulers and leaders had to carve it up.
Setting colors to a map,
that was once just blue and green.
Back and forth I've had to adopt my ID,
and state my intentions of travel
while entering either of the two countries.
Canada and America are where I have spent my life.
The little navy book that declares where I'm from,
tweaks the eye when crossing back from side to side.
The place that I currently call home, contradicts the cover.
Visas, passports, and entry permits
are all hoops to jump through
when simply striving to seek new boundaries.
So string up those fences,
and deny one another entrance.
For that's not where I'm from.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback