Under my sky,
an American came.
He grips a dove in one hand,
the other hidden behind his back,
a bomb silently ticking.
With a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes
and a tongue that stutters and stumbles,
He tells me my town is no longer mine.
 I don't know whether to be angry or sad.
 Will anyone do more than talk back?
 A heavy ache is in my heart,
heat gathering behind my eyes.
How long before I explode?