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A Poem

It is ironic
how much love
I gave out cause'
I didn't give much to myself.

Everyone always says
you can't love anyone 
else until you learn to
love yourself first...

I was 10 when I started
to understand the laughs,
sorry my tongue collides
two countries when I speak.

I was 12 when I started
to hear the gossip
"Yuck she smells like Indian Curry"
sorry for the herbs and spices within me.

I was 15 when I found
my only father figure and
a role model was diagnosed
with Cancer, and boom at that moment
life felt like a burning candle.

I began repeatedly questioning
what is my purpose?
who am I? why me?

I was told by my grandma
I am a lotus flower
I had the potential to 
bloom out of the mud and 
become something beautiful.

Now I stand before God
with a reminder to myself 
that every beautiful soul
has a consequence

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