My mind sits on a Ferris wheel.
When I look at the ground
fear is minute and as I spin
around the skyline becomes clouded.
This is a lonely ride,
exhale, aware others feel this too.

Caught a glimpse of old friends
on their merry roller-coaster
rides, going along with the tide.

Jumping off this wagon
would make the irrational feelings be over.
My pride secures asking for help hostage.
Asking for help is to my voice box
what immigrants are to the US.