My family loves showing off their patriotism during the Fourth of July. My mom, for example, has no problem wearing a blue top, red shorts, and white sneakers with her American flag earrings to a cookout. Nevertheless, although I was born and raised in the United States, and accepted my American identity, I realized that from the rest of society didn't necessarily define me as fitting into the latter category. My hair, complexion, eyes, nose, and other physical features meant I was not solely an "American," but a "hyphenated American." Yes, we are familiar with terms including African American, Mexican American, Chinese American, and others, but, I have yet to hear someone referred to as a Caucasian American. Why is that?

I've been sitting here some time now,

Severely beaten, bloody tears stream down my face

My once possessed fame and self-pride have all been swiped away

Heart broken...heavily laden...never did I think she would do this to me

Where was my father?  Thought he would always protect me...

Found the reason some days ago; people saying he was away...

needed some time to relax.

RELAX...I was here being tossed about, broken into infinite pieces, drowned and brought back to life, cruelly I was buried beneath rubble:

Yes, she did all this to me...all the while my father sat back and r-e-l-a-x-e-d

My soul comprised of miniature souls aches; it pains me to breathe

I dare not look into a mirror; for what I may see frightens me

Last night when I tried to sleep... voices from the souls within

screamed at, cried to, spoke with ME

Elders, infants, youth, middle-aged adults simultaneously reached out;

searching for relief

5-FIVE days have passed and now my father returns.  He's a little too late...

I have experienced death...from my mother

And so now I sit here, as I have done for some time now

Severely beaten with raspberry tears streaming down my bronzed cheeks, contemplating; do I blame my mother for the damage she has done unto me.

Or my father for the neglect that he bestowed.

Warning signs had been given far in advanced.  He could have sent me away to a safe place, but he failed...

Failed me, and the souls of those elders, infants, young adults, and children who have yet to be found.

My catastrophe will rang throughout history...I will always be the child who was beaten, drowned, made to hunger and thirst for days by the woman who I call mother:

All the while my father vacationed...so he wouldn't see my pain.