Saturday, May 2, 2009

The i In Voice

Strain to hear
my small voice
Please.
Waves crash to the shore
At intervals
Drowning. White noise

i am hungry
To find the words
To say what i mean
Far from the land of my birth
With its colorful
Papaya and language
That no longer fits

The dichotomy of the
american dream
i open each text ready
To find the words
my words
Searching for me

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