Should I be ashamed to have two countries ingrained deep into my bones?
With dark brown hair and tanned skin proclaiming my heritage
The way my eyes are shaped and my eyebrows lay on thick
This, only part of my inheritance.
I’m fluent in a language that was originally not my own
Well versed in a culture that I have grown up in
And I constantly play the part,
or perhaps I don’t because there is nothing to hide
except for my very own skin, that I refuse to depart
We have Tacos for lunch and Burgers for dinner
The spiced smell of Arroz wakes you up in the early mornings
With sweet contraption of canela on Winter nights
Two languages muddled in my mouth like the mixing pot that is America’s very being
Hola and Hello are always exchanged
Different words of the same meaning
Spanish and English constantly interchanged
Although I am not caucasian
I only speak my families language on occasion
Sometimes I don’t remember which part im playing is to have a mask
With my friends, I am way more ‘lax
The people in the country, I live in says my culture is a poison
Nonetheless, I still say the pledge unashamed with no annoyance
I cannot fully be one or the other
Without dropping the counterpart of my childhood
I can’t roll my R’s so why do I even bother?
Because in multilingual tones
I still have two countries ingrained deep into my bones
My roots, and my branches.