Poems about Immigration
Oh, how quick they were to try and suffocate the flames
On the sacred, seasoned, sanctuary known as Notre Dame.
Born in classic white suburbia,
The most American Dream of cities.
Gifted with white picket fences,
We entered through the back door.
I see a room.
A big metal cooler,
She went in and out a lot.
We entered through the back door.
I see a room.
A big metal cooler,
She went in and out a lot.