Citizen of Another Country

I'm the cirizen of another country, the long penynsula that stretches into the vast Mediterrean Sea; has anybody ever seen how lovely it is with its snow-capped mountains and verdant rolling hills oveerlooking towns with castels and churches? Has anyone ever heard the warbling of canaries and of sparrows? Before I pledge allegiance to another flag and swear my loyalty, I may feel a sense of betrail inside, I'll overcome it and love both flags and countries fairly and equally... can one love two countries? The farewell of a young boy departing on his seventhenth year wasn't as sad as that of my parents who were crying; I sought an exciting future that only America was offering to the most adventurous spirit flying over an unknown ocean... navigated by hundres of ships under an airplane. I'm a cirizen of another country, a country loved by Michelangelo, Dante and Ovid; no, I wasn't expelled from their cities as they were, I obeyed the will of mom and dad. I'm a citizen of another country obeying the laws of the land and respecting everyone.