...shouting prayers from the HOMELAND

LOST IDENTITIES

We are the lost ones
The ones who believed
who shared a flag, an hymn!
We are the ones who left
for the sorrow
of those who cared.
For the envy
of those who lingered.
Amongst us some have lived
for the glory of others.
Some to fill one's own desires.
Most of us have lost our grammar,
forgotten those heartfelt oaths
when the pioneers awakened the silence
shouting prayers
from the HOMELAND and NEA HELLAS.
The island became a rock
and sunk to eternity.
We swore never again to see tyranny
But haven't we become tyrants?
Where are all the seamstresses,
the midnight cleaners, the cooks,
the dishwashers, the fruit pickers,
the waitresses, the rail workers?
Where do we hide those of us
who never learned to sign a name
or speak a foreign dialect
well enough to read, to write,
to speak, to vote?
Where are our literates,
the PHD's
the Master degrees?
Where are the politicians,
the mayors, the MP's?
Do we dine together?
Do we speak the same tongue?
or savor wine from the same cup?
I have witnessed the glory
of America...

Humberta Araújo