Our America

Struggling with these

seven kids on my hands,

my husband is off

in that foreign America.

Feeding seven mouths

and still fighting for myself,

he struggles to gain

a few spare dollars

to send back to the family.

I am the mother stuck in poverty.


I have a dream to be

The doctor my people need.

I hope for the acceptance

Of my father to

Let me change the

traditional lifestyle.

I want to progress-

To start the change

This country needs.

I am the Muslim girl in middle of war.


Uniform personalities

daily tread the same footsteps.

I pass by the same face.

Their hopes and dreams,

long dead and decayed,

no longer hold meaning.

I hide my beliefs and goals

behind locked doors;

far beyond the reach of others.

I am the Chinese girl who can't escape.


Education is a word

seldom used in my household.

Money is translated into trade.

Women are queens

of dirt under mens' feet.

We breed to create children

by the dozen

in hopes that one will make

into adult-hood.

I am the dark-skinned girl in search of opportunity.


My parents arrived

months before my birth.

Near-impossible obstacles

they conquered

through their determination.

They only hope to see

all three of their children

make it to professional school-

to reach the life they could never have.

I am the girl standing in front of you.


Come live your hopes and dreams

in my name.

Equal freedom to all

with the initiative to seek

the ultimate goal.

Breathe in my air

filled with the joyous laughter

of those who made it through.

I am the perfect dream.

I am America.