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Emily Diaz Poem
America is everyone,
There are people who believe otherwise
But America is not
Just some middle class white man,
Living a suburban life,
Drinking coffee every morning,
Eating breakfast with his beautiful wife and children.
The American dream right.
But America is more than that
America is a Cuban boy
Being as loud as he wants,
Then blaming it on being Cuban,
Taking coffee shots to wake up,
Trying to learn a language separate from his native tongue,
Getting frustrated in class because he feels stupid,
While his mother and father work overtime to help feed him and his siblings.
America is a black woman
She wears her curls with pride,
Her voice is strong,
Her independence is stronger,
She takes nothing from no one,
And has the will power to work long days and nights
To make sure her kids get to live a good life
Because she’s done the research
And it says that black kids are more likely to drop out of school than white kids.
She doesn’t want them to struggle like her
She wants them to be happy
To prove that a kid from the south side can become a doctor, a lawyer, president, anything.
America is a Muslim girl
She fears going to school every day,
But she trusts her faith and with struggle
Puts on her hijab
Presto, now she has target on her back
Students make racist jokes
But no offense right
And lord forbid that the topic of Isis pop up in history
Because then the wondering of eyes will all point at her
And they will question her about terrorism
As if she knows all the answers.
People want her deported
But she just wants to have a full day without any remarks about her religion
She wants to be normal.
Copyright © Emily Diaz | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Emily Diaz Poem
Do Not Touch
She is a fragile girl though her looks may deceive you.
Her bones are made of glass,
Her skin is pale and frail.
Do Not Touch
Just admire her pearly white smile from a distance.
Notice how their reflection blinds you so that you can’t see her pain.
Do Not Touch
Her eyes shimmer because of the spotlights pointed her way.
She has become a puppet in her own one woman show.
Men, family, friends tugging at her strings
If they pull too hard she will eventually break.
Do Not Touch
They say her life is a masquerade.
Her medicine cabinet lined with her faces for the day.
Do Not Touch
She is heavily medicated with pills being pushed down her throat.
She will feel like a zombie for hours while popping pills like tic tacs.
One for the depression,
Another for the headaches the last one causes,
Another one the suicidal thought that one causes,
And the list goes on and on.
Do Not Touch
She is a victim of the pharmaceutical industry.
Chemicals cannot change her thoughts,
Therapy cannot change her ideals.
Do Not Touch
She is already broken
And is sheltered in a museum of demise.
In a bubble of sadness
One pop and her demons will escape.
Do Not Touch.
Copyright © Emily Diaz | Year Posted 2017
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