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Pardon me.
I’m tired,
I’m stressed,
and I merit every excuse
for being emotional.
I’m feeling too parochial
to explore the avenues
of actual envy,
but though we are good friends
and I love you to death,
don’t ask me what’s wrong
because

you can’t possibly imagine
or understand
if I start lamenting
on how the arduous path
towards the elusive US Visa
has been tormenting me
for the past ten years

to stand there
with the best intentions
and know
that the man behind the desk
already thinks you’re a liar
before you even
walked through the door

because you are a citizen
and you didn’t even work for it

count your blessings
because from the vantage point
of the likes of me
you have everything
.

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