I’ll tell you now.

I am an Asian-American

And I’m an 11th-grade student.

I have ten siblings in my family

but only five will love me.

There’s nothing to be sad about.

I’ll tell you now.

I am an Asian-American.

I wake up at seven and leave school at four.

I go to work at five and come home at eleven.

I fall asleep at twelve and wake back up at seven.

On my two days off,

I wake up at seven and leave school at four.

I do my laundry and clean my house.

I go to bed at eleven when I sneak in some games,

There’s nothing to be sad about.

I’ll tell you now.

I am an Asian-American.

I have a name that many don’t remember.

Only the people who have acknowledged me do.

I have stayed quiet and passive,

Being forgotten and not talked to.

My grades have to be perfect or I’ll get angry.

My OCD and completionist mind scared some away.

I have my lack of common sense and a bad temper.

What’s there to be sad about?

I’ll tell you now.

I am an Asian-American.

I have lived in six different locations,

Four different states and seven different schools.

My father was a refuge from a war in the southeast.

He came to America with nothing to his name,

He left behind his family to live again.

My mother was a refuge from a war in the southeast.

She lived in the jungle with no AC,

She came to America with a family of ten.

The two refugees met later in life,

They had four kids and all of them would fight.

My mother also brought two daughters that raised the four kids.

My home is three bedrooms with five people there,

Four kids and a mother live life unaware.

I guess she didn’t know my father also had three.

There’s nothing to be sad about.

I’ll tell you now.

I am an Asian-American.

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Dark brown

I wear pants and hoodies with awkward T-shirts.

Most of my clothes are hand-me-downs from the well-off,

But then I got a job and felt something new.

I splurge my third paycheck of two hundred dollars,

I understand that I couldn’t get many things

With three younger siblings more rotten.

The attention, the toys, the time of day,

But my hard work is mine to spend.

There’s nothing to be sad about.

I’ll tell you now.

I am an Asian-American.

My father didn’t visit for longer than usual,

And I stopped caring about if he was coming.

Then one day he came with a baby somewhere.

He got tired of my mother and pretended to care.

Whatever money we had 

Went to support that baby somewhere.

What’s there to be sad about?

I’ll tell you now.

I am an Asian-American.

I work for myself and continue to love my mom.

She works hard by herself trying to be happy,

Then my dad takes advantage of the kids

He hasn’t lived with me for twelve years.

Now I am sad but believed I was angry.

I used to defend my dad and love him dearly.

Now that I am seventeen, I realize I was wrong,

I will live for myself and love my mom.

Be careful when you’re with me

Or I’ll break down when you least expect me.

I am sad to the point of becoming mad.

I’ll be driven to insanity if I can’t find what’s left of me.