This is not Europe

 
I pack my
backpack
and I board a plane,
The old lady next to me starts to complain
'This is not Europe'.

The plane lands, I exit the gate
looking at my passport from ‘Republic of Must Wait’
for a passport control
while a girl my age can continue to roll.
And I look at the officer who asks what will I do and for how long will I stay
'For eternity' I silently pray
as I answer for some days
only.
Oh this place I love, despite feeling lonely!

I have dreams and ideas greater than my city
and when I tell it 'You are not my home' it thinks I'm witty.
Coming from a country I could love, but all it makes me feel is pity.

I get it, you can't let someone in if they are not ready,
but who was so certain about such rules so steady?
‘Cuz what do you do with youth so progressive
and a land that can't be their mother, makes them aggressive
for accidentally being born
on a piece of territory they'd rather torn
apart
instead of carrying it in the heart.

Our life is what we make out if it
but only when the environment is fit.
And I have wished for a survival kit
many times until now
only to be asked how
and never why
making me feel I don't deserve to say 'I...'.

'...I am more than my country, I hide potential unseen
for you not to want me because outside of Europe I have been
born.
I'm telling you I'm worth it'
-'There's no place for you here yet’ I’ve been warned'.

I pack my
backpack
and I board a plane,
The pale reflection of the on old lady in the small window starts to complain
'This is not Europe'. 

by Anonymous

About my Art:

A poem on what it means to be from Europe but not from the EU.

Where am I from? What is my future vision of the concept of „Europe“?

Europe means home to me and I hope that one day I will be able to live in any corner of my home visa-free, hassle-free and with institutions welcoming me with their arms wide open.