Whose America? Who's America?
My poem is about my understanding and, my experience in America vs. how a minority might experience it.
How Do Diverse Americans Understand the American Creed
America belongs to me,
Something that I know to be.
I’m middle class,
No broken glass.
America has given me an easy life,
It’s never made me need a knife.
I’m here and i’m white,
I’ve never needed to fear the night.
America has been my home
The place I’ve lived in, where I’ve grown.
It’s welcomed me and accepted me,
The worst of me and the best of me.
America has loved me so
I’ve basked in a patriotic glow.
I’ve never had a problem here
And know that i’m being sincere.
This is the true experience for me,
But for others with different colors,
This may not be.
America is this way to me
But being born here is what you need.
Without American blood you bleed,
This next warning you should heed.
America is opportunity
It’s jobs and homes for you and me.
But it’s too good to be true.
Could it really be?
We come here, filled with hope and glee.
But America isn’t opportunity for you and me.
America isn’t open, America isn’t free.
Just because you need, doesn’t mean that America feeds.
Work hard, shoot for the moon.
Is it land in the stars, or come to your doom.
But it’s our fault, America said.
We steal jobs, we don’t deserve a bed.
Once you’re here, America’s gilded outside is shed.
America may shimmer, America may shine.
But when you get here,
You realize that this country isn’t truly yours or mine.