The D Train
This is not "our" road
The path I am on does not belong to my tribe
The other tribes surround us
There are a few others from my tribe here
But most of them look, and probably feel, out of place
I don’t like it but I don’t understand this tribe
They are different
Our language is supposed to be the same
But I can’t understand what they say, how they say it
I wonder how they feel in my tribe
The road has a fork to the right
Me and my tribe mates take this road
This was our path
I thought I heard a small sigh of relief
We are the same in our differences
But we are, in the end, different.
Tiffany Kurtz
Jan. 4, 2001