America.

Land of the free.

It’s where I was born.

But I haven’t lived there long,

From that country I was torn.

I miss the peanut butter and the pretty clothes.

I like the books in English and the gardens with the rose.

 

Korea.

Home is where the heart is.

I’ve lived here for ten years.

I love the smell of mandu

and the sound of anime cheers.

I love the throbbing sobs of monsoons,

And the blissful days at the beach.

I love this country and all it has to teach.

 

Cambodia.

Incense and elephants,

Palm trees and flowers,

Wild monkeys, and wild tigers,

Sad memories of ages past,

New memories of peace,

Kites blowing in the wind,

A mango—have a piece. 

China.

Strange food for breakfast,

And giant hulking walls,

Loud singing operas,

And open bathroom stalls.

Hotel rooms with cool water,

And beef jerky for free.

I love it when you speak Chinese to me.