The Immigrant Family

A Poem

Jheets Jots
The POM

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Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Pedestals engraved,
For those whose predecessors are academics and moguls.
Mine were farmers and war veterans,
whose untold stories scream pain.

Outsiders bound by green paper chains,
While the golden child flies coastal.
Colonialism lands you connections,
When we are meant to feel vain.

Inherited generational trauma,
Races next to hand me down cars.
Let's go to grandfather's cottage!
Too bad he’s not around.

Odd summer jobs pocketed for school,
Unlike that shiny new guitar.
Friends with curfews,
Not jet skis nor fish lines of trout.

Lonely is the life of an immigrant family,
The ones who choose to flee.
The minorities who dream for their unborn child,
The ones that rarely smiled.

We try and reap on stolen land,
To show our parents what we can withstand.
That this was all worth something,
The promised land is truly trusting.

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Jheets Jots
The POM

Novice Writer| Tech, Biology, and Social Psych| BSc in Molecular Genetics 🔬 Dreamer 💭 Poet 🖋Tamil Canadian| Creator of https://medium.com/the-mole-biologists