Have I Had Two Roads,

I've Built My Homeland, I've Even Founded My State - In My Language.

And I Tell Myself, A Moon Will Rise From My Darkness.

Sarcasm Helps Me Overcome The Harshness Of The Reality We Live, Eases The Pain Of Scars And Makes People Smile.

The Poem Is In My Hands, And Can Run Stories Through Her Hands.

Exile Is More Than A Geographical Concept. You Can Be An Exile In Your Homeland, In Your Own House, In A Room.