Snehal Amembal
Our children speak your tongue,
Ashamed of how we speak.
Reeking of vernacular,
A rough stone against smooth paper.
SPACE
Every hesitation,
they unknowingly mock.
Over and over we listen,
Like a voice over static.
SPACE
So what did we expect
laden with the weight of our decisions.
In our quest for a better life;
Are our children slowly becoming yours?
SPACE