New York is my home, Lady Liberty my mother.
We are an embodiment of this place.
My grandmother spoke Italian, I can’t speak a bit
But I understand a little Spanish.
My skin is white, it’s made up of many
From Natives to Ukrainians, from Irish to Italians.
My lover is Latino: Dominican and Ecuadorian
Raised by a first-generation Sicilian-American with none of his blood.
My friends are those who make up the rainbow of skin colors
Those in Hijabs and wearing bracelets for PRIDE
Those in lab coats waiting for their friends to finish praying.
My home is a place that gives hope to the weak
And now I long to give hope to the weak.
My home has shown what poverty is,
I’ve seen veterans sleeping on the doorsteps of Cathedrals.
Often times Latin or Italian Cathedrals
The Cathedrals of the immigrants.
But you say the immigrants will take away from those who sleep
Yet you are often the one walking around the resting, acting as if they don’t exist.
You are not the one letting those worn from life sit on your doorstep
You tell them to get a job, to stop being lazy.
The beauty of immigration, all immigration
Is that it makes the world a rainbow.
My world is a rainbow of skin color
My world is a swirling rainbow of cultures.
My world is a beautiful mix of dialects
So even those who only speak English possess an accent.
My city has been attacked, my home as well,
My loved ones hurt in 9/11.
But still we love the rainbow of people.
Still Lady Liberty holds her torch to light the way for those in need
A torch no one will ever be able to blow out.