I feel like a refugee
in my own country
vive la difference
and yet another stance
I'm cornered just as strange
I'm just their smudgy spot
I am their granted dot
as if they had a say
if only they have named
a little bird is framed
and sings a lonely song;
Ah, "New York, New York"
……...and so on and on
; what did I do wrong?
M
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem