A pair of eyes gazed, numb, onto Indian streets 

beneath the shade of an Ashoka tree, she felt unease 

two identities remain difficult to meet 

Is this homeland? The one she should seize? 

 

she wished for Philippine stores on Indian streets 

for familiarity on a foreign farmland, she stands 

but shouldn’t the homeland provide the seat? 

tucking in her strands, her mind crumbled like sand 

 

lurching stares made her hollow, not knowing what to follow 

she traced the beads of perspiration on her hand

a reality she could never fully swallow led to wallows 

identity and homeland by origin are the only ones to span

 

yet a home by choice, quite rare 

India and Philippines: can they compare?