Mexican immigrant
Perhaps it is a culture thing here, to be more cold and not loving,
To mutter "immigrants" instead of "thank you"
To wish the kicking out of brown people
When the original of this land are brown
And when so many of us are working, helping out
Even when we struggle.
This is not my home.
That is true...
But it is not yours either.
The real home is of my brother
My brother Indigenous USA
Or what is left of him,
The ones that survived Columbus
But are barely managing to scrape by under reservations,
You call me immigrant
But the brown in my face
Comes from my indigenous blood
And is the same color of the Natives from this land,
The US indigenous and Native American is my brother
My blood is from here, the American continent,
I laugh at your comments
Telling me I don't belong in my own continent,
When you came from the continent Europe
Directly from invaders.
The brown on my face is the same brown as the True Americans,
The ones you call "Native" Americans,
In refusal to let brown skinned people be called just "Americans"
With nothing in front of it.
White man and White woman, you are not American.
You are the Invader.
You are the genocide and rape
That was hoping to kill off the indigenous
You are the traidor that kept breaking deals
When it came to returning land
To the people it still belongs to.
You are Mount Rushmore being founded thanks to
The broken deal of returning Native land back to the Sioux,
You say "Indian giver" to cover up the broken pacts
Where you were promised to return Native land
But went back on your word.
Today I am tired of lies and the way you call this your home.
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