My parents left our homeland for me
More than five thousand, five hundred miles
To travel to a land ripe with opportunity
But at times the ripest fruit tended to spoil
However, they always counted God's blessings and moved on
My parents have endlessly toiled
With their younger son on the way
And four years of American experience
They strived at greater lengths each and every day
It is difficult to set aside one's own will
To tend to a family
To pay an immigration agency's bills
Yet they have done it, tried and true
Citizenship, I pray
Is coming soon
One day, I will properly honor them
Meanwhile,
This country will learn to accept others, but only with Him as its precious gem
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 2:51 AM UTC
My parents left our homeland for me
More than five thousand, five hundred miles
To travel to a land ripe with opportunity
But at times the ripest fruit tended to spoil
However, they always counted God's blessings and moved on
My parents have endlessly toiled
With their younger son on the way
And four years of American experience
They strived at greater lengths each and every day
It is difficult to set aside one's own will
To tend to a family
To pay an immigration agency's bills
Yet they have done it, tried and true
Citizenship, I pray
Is coming soon
One day, I will properly honor them
Meanwhile,
This country will learn to accept others, but only with Him as its precious gem
6/12/16
I decided to revisit an previous poem of mine, “Sacrifice", after remembering William Blake's approach to former works in his collection “Songs of Innocence and of Experience"... Definitely not as polished.
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