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A Circus Tent of Immigrants

A circus tent of immigrants
An island of Ellis
not far away.

Ferris wheels and barking seals.
The games were rigged,
but still we play.

Plus we'd cheat a bit
'cause it's in our genes,
due to what poppa and nanna
were forced to do.

Surviving's all they ever knew;
but now this carnival's
almost through.

I guess times have changed
No change is thrown
in wishing wells, and us kids have grown
into parents
who've never known
a day of struggle like poppa owned.

Recipes of nanna thrown
into attic boxes; and now it's known
to force an animal to box is
a cruel man's game.
But I'm sure these kids wouldn't wanna watch it

Tents implode, rides have died
A graveyard of memories now forced to hide
in an album of Polaroids
made obsolete.
Not digital. And nanna's sweet

banana bread
replaced by all
these microwaves.
And so we wave
goodbye to a past
not meant to last,
but one that's gone much too fast.