The things I carry


The things I carry-my parents’ expectations.

In their eyes, it is love,

but in reality, it is an endless harangue

“You must show more A’s on that report card next term.”

What matters are results, those good grades that “every other student gets”

Their words hit me like bricks.

“Do better. like those other students.”

These words illustrate my parents.

I view my work as the pinnacle of my effort yet apparently there is still so much more room for improvement.

But years later, I finally understand.

I am finally grateful for the effort my parents put in for me to put in my utmost effort. The inertia that they pushed on my back has now provided me with the powerful driving force to be better, try harder, and produce better results. However, this came from my exasperating and dictating parents from the past. It has turned into a powerful impact that always encourages me to finish assignments, projects, and study harder for tests.

Here is what I imagine happening.

“Hey Abdi, what career are you pursuing?”

I tell them I want to be a pharmacist.

Their faces light up.

I hear words of gratitude. My parents admit that they were harsh on me in highschool.

But I understand the great effect that it has on me as a person.

I am fixated on my lifelong career.

I can now carry a pharmacist coat.

But the most important thing I now carry,

are my parents’ recognition.

This poem is about: 
My family


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