New York:
It’s the small comments that’ll get to you Start to claw underneath your skin, burning you from the inside out They’ll bounce around in your head, sounding your alarms. It’s when you start changing who you are To fit the confining box of standards you’ve been restricted to Start to enjoy the prison; enjoy the box. It’s when you’re forced to find a balance Between the home you love and the house you live in Because you’ve always had a house, but never been home. It’s when you’ve fooled yourself into believing that you are home Even if you get stared at when you walk through her streets Even if you are a citizen, but don’t feel like one Even if you feel like you don’t belong It’s then that you should know, New York isn’t home. Basmalla Hussein '21 (BHSEC Queens)
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