GIRLS // Poetry --reupload (2016)

Immigrant

When I stepped my foot onto this land
no one placed a key to a house, in the palm of my hand.

When I stepped my foot onto this road
nobody gifted me a pot of gold.

When I arrived at the airport
there was no promise of comfort,
with a free bed to sleep on
or a platter of food to feast on –
There was no free beds to spare
and all that travel aftercare.

When I came
I didn't get showered with popularity and fame.
I didn't earn a special status or got any hand outs,
let alone a stack of cash.

When I entered the country
there was no job awaiting me.
I had to start from square one;
Everything I've got & earned is from my own efforts.

Yes, the people welcomed me,
but no one was handing out anything for free.

***

He, who doesn't see
can bypass reality.
He, who doesn't know
can ask without guilt stirring his soul.
He, who isn't aware
can turn a blind eye to other's despair.

It's easy to ask
when all you see is the green grass
through your rose-coloured lenses
– for we must all
be living in nice houses
with picket fences.