This Isn't My Home

It's not really my home, but I'll do anything to protect it.

The bright sun kisses my cheeks

A little willy-wag tail flutters

The ocean wars with the land

While delighted shrieks of young children

Fill the air

It's not really my home, but I'll do anything to protect it.

This country has taken me in

And for all the racist slander

That splatters the dark pages of her history

I have not once been called out

For not being as pale as a cloud on a bright blue sky

It's not really my home,

But I've come to live here anyway.

The salty scent of the ocean

The trills of lorikeets on a Sunday morning

And the warm sun hugging me every day

Really makes me want to protect it.