My blood runs funny lately
Thin, like water stained red
is it real?

They look at me funny lately
They translate their words
As if I cannot understand
Tight-lipped smiles and
Eyes bright with shame, that whisper
"you are not one of us"

they call me American
call me washed-out,
watered-down
and they do not have to translate
the bite, the sting,
the disappointment

I am not You
I am america
I am a child of opportunity
I am the beautiful, the brave
My fingers grazing spacious skies

But if I could, I would sink
Straight down to my knees
Kneel for forgiveness
Bury myself in my roots, in blood that runs thicker
than water