My country was never on the list,
So I guess I should be grateful.
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But how can I be?
When all the world has turned hateful.
Here’s my story as a daughter of immigrants:
In the U.S.A. I was born,
My family was naturalized
To stay “patriotic” we had sworn.
We were productive in society
And worked towards a dream.
But to label it the American Dream would be unfair,
I’ll tell you what this means.
I am originally from India
And this will never change.
So my dream is Indian American
But there are more tags to put in range.
I am a Muslim woman of color
And I’ve never been more proud.
I want to tell this to everyone in the country,
And say it nice and loud.
But why do I care about the refugees
When I have my own safe space?
Because we have a moral responsibility
To protect the human race.
You see, I am not just Indian,
I am every nation, and much more.
And I am here to show you
What my brothers and sisters have bore.
Where are all the people of the world?
Can’t they see all the pain?
And here we stay
Helpless, and in vain.
So call the people of the world
We’ll work together, I’ll tell you how.
Let’s gather around,
Right here, right now.
