Upon return to my land of birth,
what internal storm
will within me take form?
For my feet have kissed the soil
where ancestors lived and died.
Soil imperialism did savagely toil.
For my eyes have re-adjusted
to a new world gaze
that’s cleared away my Western haze.
But when I walk through the maze
of that ‘Free World’ terminal
it’ll be in a new, uncertain life phase.
So I wonder,
what emotions will be
invoked within me?
Will I be astonished at how he
who was raised in a once subjugated race
still sets a nation’s political pace?
Will I mourn like a returned refugee
at sites of youthful memories
now overthrown by weeds and graffiti?
Will I still look upon
those stars and stripes
believing all the superpower hype?
Will it have the mark of liberty and the free
or of war, surveillance and cultural conquest
Will the anthem I sing
reflect the blood I bleed,
enclosing a two-fold identity?
Oh say can you –