The wanderer

I walk through the labyrinth of my soul,

Between "I can" and "What should I be?",

Stringing words, dancing with numbers,

But in the mirror, who smiles back at me?

I know the paths, but the map’s unreadable,

Jack of all trades, yet master of none,

Painting skies, but my canvas stays hollow,

In my homeland, my shadow wanders alone.

I’m stranded at the crossroads of dreams,

Foreign lands beckon, but my heart is chained by longing,

What blessings must I chase on native soil?

Or cast my net in foreign oceans, blue and sprawling?

Here I stand, torn between two vows:

To cling to poverty or bury hope in distant silence now…

Resumes take flight, answers hit walls,

“You’re overqualified,” or “We don’t need you yet,”

Bitter laughter at the end of the line,

My talents evaporate on the wrong land’s breath.

They offer dollars beyond the horizon,

But my blood whispers, “This is your home,”

Long lines at immigration gates,

In my mother’s eyes, a prayer trembles, left unspoken.

These roots crave to clutch the earth,

But my wings thirst for alien skies,

Between dignity and a sack of rice,

Which deserves to be sacrificed?

I’m stranded at the crossroads of dreams,

Foreign lands beckon, but my heart is chained by longing,

What blessings must I chase on native soil?

Or cast my net in foreign oceans, blue and sprawling?

Here I stand, torn between two vows:

To cling to poverty or bury hope in distant silence now…

Tomorrow, I may lift my suitcase and sorrow,

Selling my labor, but my soul stays behind,

Stars in foreign skies will bear witness:

A nameless man, a wanderer without a harbor to find…