but where do i belong?
where do i call home?
was it Indonesia or Hong Kong?
is that where am really from?
where can i walk with pride?
with my head really up high
with no guards by my either side
rest under a tree and look to the sky
where can i live permanently?
where can i leave a mark?
without having to transfer frequently
and comfortably inhabit and work
where can i sleep soundly in my hut?
knowing that am safe and secure
without having to be vigilant and alert
and awake with my heart guiltless and pure
where can i watch my kids grow?
watch 'em as they play on the streets
without fear of attack and brawl
and congregate loved ones for perfect feats
where can i cruise around freely?
without being asked my tribe
and intentionally robbed greedily
or imprisoned and enslaved for bribe
where can i live individually?
without having to carry a gun
live the rest of my life peacefully
and ultimately quieten down and have fun
where do i belong?
my homestead, my kingdome come?
where i craved for so long
where i must really call home
where?
Jamaal