growing up as an immigrant in America...

NOTE: this will be a short run, but i had to jot down my thoughts before i let them overwhelm me (a big no-no).

  first: to anyone who is not an immigrant, please read and analyze what i have to say. if you are someone who can relate to the struggles of immigrants, i commend you for understanding.

i did not have all of the benefits of a "typical" american/i grew up poor/raised by parents who encouraged me to deceive/without realizing they were holding me back from realizing my potential

i did not have the upbringing suggested by my parents/possessions have always been difficult to come by/but my upward and onward spirit persists

i did not have the courage to face these evils/until recently/and i am finally liberated from the familiar shackles which have misguided me/and i do not fault them for claiming to want to help me

but all i have is all i've ever needed/and i have proven that it takes nothing to build everything in my life/my most difficult task being to learn to be at peace with myself/in order to maximize my ability to add others

in a world defined by titles and classes/i chose to dedicate my life to the oldest title imagineable: philosopher/everyone asks me what it means/but few have taken the time to listen to the full answer/it will reveal itself when i finally master my art...

...this is the end of who i once was/a troubled free spirit/and the beginning of who i am/a confident educator and student/my sole dream being to make the world laugh/for it is only laughter that has helped me to overcome all of my lifes difficulties/i could not think of a better way to express myself in this world...

to be continued