Unknown, Untold

As I read these books, the stacks pile up

its as if I am looking for something..
I don't know what, something to fill this hunger
Feeling empty, wanting to know more
experience your story, and even hear your glory
Feel that wind, whispering through my ears
A lot of times it brings me to tears
misunderstood by my American peers
Perhaps, Looking for something, to explain my own story
Because this one, for now has no glory....


For its unknown, untold
Wild and crazy
Skin and soul, left in my homeland
Left to boil, my stories on top of on another coil
intertwine, trying to grasp these uncontrollable hands
I only strive to return
I read these books in hopes maybe I will learn.
I only want to practice my right, return to my home.