The Other America

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There’s an America that we’re not part of. A nation that hears liberty where we hear hate. Maybe we, too, were blinded. Deaf to the layman’s sermon. Too proud, too naive, to have seen this coming.

Two countries damned by padded pockets, damned by frenzy: a plague upon both your houses.

It’s an age-old story, the taking back. From the tired, the poor. From the huddled masses. It’s their story too. Did they already forget?

A sinking boat once took sail on the wings of my mother. Once weary, once penniless. Behold the power of dreaming.

In the Other America, we were taught a different meaning of Greatness.

xx

S. Bansil

 

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