For What It's Worth.

I am no rock

I am more like water that changes

with the pull of the moon

becoming currents of hot and cold

rivers rippling through the open ocean.

Where do you make your home?

Do you avoid becoming the foreigner

because it makes you squirm

uncomfortably,

shifting in your skin,

in your mind the center of attention

but for all the wrong reasons?

I am a stranger at home in a strange land.