who i am is a product
of my mother
of my father
however hateful,
and however proud
as a flower doesn't choose its color
this, I've become

from my mother I learned
that there exists love
fruitful, but sour
bled from vanity
never a man but a child
could one ever love
that is what I learned from my mother

from my father I learned
to let the past go
that what is left home
will be torn apart
and what you hold onto
will be torn from your hands
that is what I learned from my father

I learn fast
and grew up young
born from my mother
captive of my father
splitting my life into integrated sectors
dividing my time and pleasures
into two, neat halves
the halves are muddy
but separate nonetheless
and in two different directions,
I am going one