My America,
Is one that has never been mine,
I identify as one thing or another,
A life of confusion that I can't
quite understand.
It would be wrong to say that America is mine,
When America was free to begin with.
No wars, no tax dollars, no segregation,
or immigration.
Funny how we call this country,
a mixing pot,
but why?
We all stumbled upon America in history one way or another,
Hated by other countries for
having freedom and opportunities that they don't have
America a spoiled country,
Rotted upon the mark of man,
We each leave our print,
Building a better country,
Hoping for a better world.
I don't have an America,
I love my country and the freedom that
I reminisce every little while,
However, America was never mine.
