Between, two lands, in a cul-de-sac
Pariahs, of lost, caravan
Chasing life, off the, beaten track
‘American Dream’, not for, this banished clan!
Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador
The two Americas’, umbilical cord
When bled, on streets, a gored folklore
“American Dream” – hopeless hearts, implored!
Who needs, who wants, spare mouths, and hands
When voted, in Trump, White Labor Class
Politics, of prejudice , only understands
Not the pain, of existence, but the vote bank, of the mass!
Prisoners of, their Dream, ghettoized from, their kin
Languishes, trodden ethos, to xenophobic delight
With that ‘American Sin’, lost, to fortitude’s chagrin
Chase nirvana, out of sight, Pilgrims Of Their Plight!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra