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Perhaps We Are All Immigrants

by Rupi Kaur

Rupi Kaur

perhaps we are all immigrants
trading one home for another
first we leave the womb for air
then the suburbs for the filthy city
in search of a better life
some of us just happen to leave entire countries




Quotes of the Day

Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.
• Mark Twain


Poems of the Day
  • James Whitcomb Riley
    Dead Selves
    by James Whitcomb Riley
    How many of my selves are dead? The ghosts of many haunt me: Lo, The baby in the tiny bed With rockers on, is blanketed And sleeping in the long ago; And so I ask, with shaking head,