I look at you
and your damn American family,
I wish I could wave a flag
and mindless believe
for just a moment.
Today and tomorrow
and all the days before,
I'll wait with the ghosts
of the civil war.
I can tell you your history--
founding fathers to your own
but what does that matter
when my very own dad
left me alone.
Pop culture don't matter,
they say with a huff,
but that's all they talk about these days
enough is enough.
Culture culture culture,
that's all I am good for
it overpowers all that I am
like the world after rain.
Today and all days,
I am torn between passion
and blood.
You can laugh and smile,
but my minor school book awards,
give me reason sometimes.
It's just the way I was raised.
I hate the idea of you
and your perfect American family.
Yet how can I love something so foreign,
so far from myself?