Sometimes I sense meanings
hidden behind the politically correct
galaxy of words

Although lucky stars run low on me
and self esteem turns wild
I express my concern
This is how I am
Must make known to everybody
what is on my mind

What bothers me as an immigrant
is the artificial consideration that leads
to hollow certainty
and the kindness misunderstood
for formality
They bring about futile hopes

I can understand
why people are not able to tell
nebulas from stars
but I mind when it comes to differentiate
between homeland and motherland

Home is where we choose to live today
Maternal is the land we uprooted
ourselves
from


Copyright ©2005 Luminita Suse