Forgotten Days
When asked,
“Where are you really from?”
I respond,
“Where the famous red bridge and cable cars carry the dreams of people from all over.
Where my ancestors, built railroads.”
And you look confused, as if I do not understand English.
The prickly air stifles my benevolence
Nevertheless, I answer your question of ancestral lineage
So, I can end the dismissiveness
The reason why I feel like I need to carry my passport to show proof
Will my birth certificate suffice?
Please don’t spurn, when you see my olive yellow skin
For I am you
My roar when my heart hides
My salty tears that create mascara drawings
My primal joy when a love loves back
My mama bear howls when my kids ache
My terror when I cannot help
Remember you, when I look foreign
Relentless micro slights pummel
When you lose sight
Of the pledge of allegiance that I have vowed all my life
Abandoned trees that shed red, white and blue tears
When 9/11 ashes sang united cries
When you want me to desert my home
My only space, I have ever known
Remember you to remember me
Thank you @PancakeSushi for sharing!
There are few phrases out there that piss me off more. In the past, I've repeatedly had people pry about my ancestry. Eventually, I told them I was American. If that sucked as a white guy, I can't for a minute imagine for anyone who's not white and who receives this sort of otherizing bulls^%$. Another gem of a poem, Cynthia. - Seth ✦