My Piece of the American Pie by Ayantu Gemeda / go back to Second Issue
Yes, I began in Africa,
specifically the horn, Oromia.
Soon after I moved to America.
Pursuit of a better life was the idea.
From African plains to airplanes to Great plains,
those types of changes can drive you insane.
Although my piece of the American pie was small,
my parents still assured me I could have it all.
Once the school bells rang, Minnesotan I became.
With my seamless assimilation I seemed the same.
All the way from K-12 and on to post secondary.
My heart longed for Africa but my mind was quite the contrary.
Though me and the Jones' may never see eye to eye.
I am content with what I have and who I am so my parent's dreams won't die.
Although my piece of the American pie was small.
My parents still assured me I will have it all, and I do.