When did we become
the land of the unequal?

A land forged on the weary backs
of those who arrived with empty hands and hearts full of hope.

At what moment did we forget
that our beauty was born from the blending of the mothers who bore us, from different tongue
//learning to embrace, from songs and flavors that crossed oceans?

Though stolen, this land was dreamed, rebuilt in the utopia
that here, dreams could reach the sky.

But today I ask…

Where are you, land of opportunity?

In what corner have you hidden?
Or have your footprints been erased so no one else can find you?

And still, I search for you.
I call your name in every language I carry.

I plant seeds in the asphalt
so one day you will bloom again.

I will not give up.
Because as long as voices cry out your name, the lost land
can be found once more.