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My broken English
It is
B, ro,ke n,
But it may as well be alright for those back from where I am from.
Where the people think I’m perfect because they haven’t been exposed to this from of perfection.
It is odd to see
That those around me are sounding differently,
Neutral cadence and no real thoughts behind their words.
Maybe it’s just I that can’t seem to understand what they say.
Babbling and rambling about making America this and making America that, ignoring the main problem.
Their words sound alien in this little island of mine.
How can America change if I, an inhabitant at least, am not aware of the changes being made?
How can they refer to the conquering of the greatness as just a
meager change of color?
I am going back,
Back to where it all started.
Back to where I am not judged by the actions of my peers.
Back to where I seem perfect.
Back to where my way of speaking calls for attention in the ears of All people.
My bags are packed and I’ll be sure to leave nothing behind.
I will take what I have gathered and give it to my people.
Though it really doesn’t matter,
You’ll probably steal it back and disguise it as “an act of courtesy”.
You never valued me,
So now I’m leaving with your newspaper under an armpit.
I feel badly for having to announce it,
But
I’ll take the cure for cancer you once ignored because I mispronounced it.
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I was inspired to write this shortly after being denied an opportunity to voice my opinion. Keep in mind, I am of Hispanic descent and migrated to the United States at an age of 7.