Assimilation

It begins like "vater" on stone-- with a drop with a drip non-stop that rubs the colors off your face. It is free speech, fast cars, and French fries-- New York in the eyes of a village boy. It's a rat race; It's lazy tongues, lost souls and a longing for home without a home to go back to. It's losing the language of your ancestors, forgetting the prayers of your parents' gods, and dreaming vain dreams in a foreign tongue until one day it gives way. Your lips parched; you ask for water with a rounded mouth.