Immigrant


It’s like being born again.

Leaving your old life, stepping into a new one

Moving to the land of the free.

That feeling is one in a million, until you actually get here.

The air smells different,
The people look different,
And now your life is different.

The originals who think you’re foreign,
are just as foreign to you.

Your new name is immigrant.

You’ve made it to the land of the free.

But only for those who were born here.

The language is not easy to learn,
and the people aren’t always willing to help.
Getting a job, that’s a struggle in itself.
You are a pioneer,
in a journey to pursue a pocket full of dreams.

Your eyes,
they used to sparkle with hope.

Hope to give your family a new life.
But now it's hard to remember what that hope was.

Stress piles up just as much as the bills.
Your last hope is that your American born children save you,
As you await the arrival of your golden ticket to freedom.

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