The Air Tastes "Different" Here

I was a small man hailing from similar land,
A subtlety I wished I wasn't privy to,

Attempting to tread the same steps as my idols,
Each footprint forward seemed smaller than the last,
Swallowed as the trees gained height around me,

Lichen masking them with a youthful vibrancy,

Whilst their roots older than the nation they serve,

I recount the saying: "The sky is bigger in America",

Watching as the soils stretched overhead and upwards,  

Displaying humbly each of its earthen crowns,

My gaze became too much for my eyes to swallow,

As I was left to wallow in my impotence,
Forced to contemplate my miniscule presence.

Here in this bastion of hardwood and bloodshed,

Partaking in the same gluttony I brand heresy, 

Toasting to descendants of the morally unjust,

Every action gave way to a lamenting moment,
The things I spare no thought for gain traction here,
The breaths of my own territory were tedious,
But in this state every inhalation was an entrée,
Safe roads we drove went nowhere familiar, 

The same heaven above looked alien,

Faces of the mob seemed suddenly exotic, 

Light danced with me behind the scenes,

Whilst my native tongue now fails me,

At least it's not from behind a screen.