I am the foreigner,
The one who crossed the churning sea,
In the metal bird above.
I am the one who came to America,
Where everyone tells me I am free,
But I never felt controlled before.
I am the stranger in every room,
The “new one” wherever I go,
I am the one who hides away in this new land.
I am the one from a country no one knows about,
My country and I are misunderstood,
But unlike others I do not mind.
I am the one who plays along,
The one who embraces the cliché,
People wonder what my language is, but it’s simply English.
I am the one who hides from others,
My anxiety gets the best of me,
I want to be friends, but I don’t know how.
I am the one who wants to join in,
And yet I distance myself from others,
For I am the foreigner, and that is all I am.
I am the one adrift,
After five years in America I am still the foreigner,
But in my nation, I am all but a memory.
I am the one who has been put into a box,
And I know I am not alone,
They tell me I am free, but sometimes I wonder if I am.