Life is surreal here.
Life is not real here.
We are an experiment.
An outdated version
Of America
Before it gave up dreams
We hope to return to our promised land.
A land where love rules all.
A land where in God we trust
And together we stand.
A land where the streets are paved with gold.
Little do we know
That all traces
Of that place is gone.
That only the ghosts
Of the American dream
Are left.
That and a cheap copy
Of what we wished for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem