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Not Home Saniya P. A terrorist attack led to us fleeing home My home In this land called America My people are the terrorists The bad ones, bad fruit In this land called America My bloodline stopped with me Without knowing who drew the line first My parents, a mystery That’s why I can’t answer “Where are you from?” Instead, I just look down Suddenly the floor becomes interesting In this land called America My not blood bounded family and I moved here To escape fear, the inevitable In this land called America I question my own tongue In this land called America People question it too Along with me being Muslim, what they claim “doesn’t fit my description” In this land called America We pledge to a flag that promises to speak to “liberty and justice for all” But with every bullet, no justice is served And with every chained arm, liberty falls out of the picture In this land called America There’s a house But it’s not a home My home is back where blood had stained the grass, now painted red And the sky of my world had darkened Not too long ago In this land called America It doesn’t feel like home
