Immigrants

............................................................................................................................. Elena S(*_*) ⋅ 26 September 2012 The immigrants However beautiful and kind All places for the Uprooted be One's soul would keep calling home The land which gave it life and food, to him (or her) , as little child. When old, Pure truth! The memory of bones Would yearn for their land. People could have their skin dressed, creamed soft or pierced, or tattooed They could have the brains filled with -n spoken languages, or emptied, washed pure and clean. In spite of all kind of treats, makeovers, most of the 206 bones of a human skeleton, not ever could be changed. The bones are tiny grains, part of their mother land. Heritage proof for as long as on this world could run walk or stand. And at the end, each soul Let's hope some of its grains Could catch the winds To fly back at own fields.